Uninvited Part One
by Net Girl
Summary: Final chapter in the epic Buffy: the Vampire Slayer & Star Wars prequel-verse saga! Another trip back to the SW-verse for Buffy and Xander, in search of a missing Scooby.


Rating: PG-13 - some violence, some language  
  
Spoilers: Plenty for all _Star Wars_ movies, and all of _Buffy_.  
  
Summary: With the aid of a mysterious and powerful rod, Buffy and Xander return to the Star Wars universe to find Imoen and bring her back to the real world. Little do they know an ancient evil has followed and a present one in the "galaxy far, far away" has plans of his own for the Slayer.  
  
Disclaimer: All _Buffy_ characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions. The _Star Wars_ characters belong to George Lucas, Lucasfilm and whatever else Lucas owns. Imoen, Usko Kenobiala and Cyril Zahn are original characters, they belong to Paul and me. We are not making any money off this, nor are we trying to infringe on anyone's copyright. So don't sue us.   
  
Authors' Notes: The season three _Buffy_ finale did not happen in this universe, along with a good portion of season three's storyline. Faith never went bad, for one. Also, the story is set in March of season four _Buffy_ - but the Initiative, Riley and Spike are edited out due to their unimportance to the events of this story and this alternate universe. In the _Star Wars_ universe, roughly a year and a half has passed since "Across The Universe" ended. So repeat to yourself, "it's just a story, I should really just relax..." The authors would like to give props to _Lord of the Rings_ which inspired some aspects of this story. Also, we forgot to mention it in the notes of "Across The Universe".  
  
Lyrics Notes: The lyrics of "It's Not The Spotlight" by Beth Orton are used without permission.  
  
"Uninvited"  
by Net Girl and Sibyl  
  
If there was a hotter place on Earth than Ras Barce, Cyril Zahn hadn't heard of it. He wiped the fresh sheen of sweat off his forehead and took another sip of lukewarm bottled water.   
  
He wasn't sure if the heat was as bad as the boredom, though. The fax from Dr. Burye had made it sound like they'd found something on the scale of King Tut's tomb. But all he'd found in the two weeks since he'd arrived were a few shards of pottery that might have been Ninth Dynasty and a bronze knife that was almost certainly New Kingdom. Hardly the "Valley of the Gods" that Burye insisted they'd found. Easy for him to say what this site was, he was two hundred miles away in Adis Adaba.   
  
Cyril frowned and rubbed the water bottle against his forehead. It didn't help. Neither did the fact that none of the workers here spoke English. One of them did speak Italian - allegedly. Mostly, the diggers and Cyril had to resort to gesturing and yelling to communicate. Did Howard Carter have these problems?  
  
"Ai! Ai! Dottore! Dottore!" the Italian-speaking digger, an old man named Taye, shouted and waved from the top of the ridge that overlooked the part of the site where they'd found the sword. "Porta! Porta!"  
  
"Che?" Cyril asked, hurrying up to the ridge.  
  
Taye pointed down to the base of the hill. "Porta! Porta!" he repeated enthusiastically.   
  
Cyril followed his arm and let out an astonished whistle. The other diggers had cleared away the sand covering a smooth stone slab on the desert floor. From his vantage point, Cyril could see what looked like hieroglyphic writing on the stone. He grinned and clapped Haile on the back. "Buono, Haile. Molto buono!" Then he hurried down the ridge and joined the rest of the team.  
  
"Stand back - um - ritornare, ritornare!" Cyril said, pushing his way to the edge of the slab. It was bigger than it had looked from up high - nearly ten feet by four feet. He knelt down next to it and brushed some loose sand off the nearest section.   
  
"Heiraticce," Taye murmured, staring down over Cyril's shoulder.  
  
"Sì, Taye," Cyril replied absently. "Heiratic...but what's it doing in Ethiopia?" he asked. "Taye, trovare mio - " Cyril frowned and pantomimed taking a picture. "Click - click. Camera?"  
  
Taye nodded and ran off towards the camp. Cyril took another look at the Heiratic inscription on the slab. It was astonishingly well preserved for such an exposed site. He glanced around the small valley. The Ethiopian army had carved up a good chunk of the landscape to build a dirt road nearby during the Eritrean war...maybe that had sifted the soil somehow...or maybe it was a weird, elaborate hoax.  
  
The inscription itself...Cyril knelt down and ran his finger over the slab. Most of the carvings had been worn away, but a few words here and there stood out. "Sea - king - door - river - door - knife..." He frowned thoughtfully. Something about that tickled a memory, but it wouldn't quite click. Sea king...  
  
"Camera, dottore."  
  
"Hm?" Cyril looked up and shook himself out of his reverie. He smiled and took the camera from Taye, then took some shots of the slab from all angles. "Okay," he said after going through two rolls of film. "Let's lift it. Ascensore."  
  
Taye repeated the command in the local Ethiopian dialect and the team put on their gas masks - Cyril had no idea how they got them and didn't really want to know. He watched as they carefully pried the slab up - there was a whoosh of escaping air that made all the diggers (and Cyril) flinch.  
  
He helped them move the slab over a few yards, then hurried over to the perfectly round hole they'd uncovered. It was deep - deeper than he could see - and lined with a smooth black stone - basalt? Cyril frowned and unclipped his flashlight from his belt.  
  
"Steps - it's not a hole, it's a staircase," he whispered in astonishment. "Okay. I'm going down. Scendere. Scendere."  
  
Taye nodded worriedly and handed Cyril a hard hat, then muttered something in Ethiopian.  
  
Cyril shook his head and, attaching the flashlight to his helmet, took the first step into the darkness. The steps were smooth, almost glassy, and it was all he could do to keep his balance as he slowly climbed down the staircase.   
  
There were ten steps in all. For some reason, that number seemed significant. But, like 'sea kings', it refused to dislodge itself from Cyril's memory. He shrugged it off and pulled the flashlight down so he could play it across the room.  
  
It wasn't as impressive as he'd expected - or hoped, maybe. Just a square chamber fifteen feet by fifteen feet. The walls, made of the same black stone as the steps, were completely bare. There was a raised platform in the center of the room with a pile of dust and crumbling bits of bone upon it. Cyril checked the floor for traps - you never know - then walked over to the platform.  
  
He frowned down at the remnants of the corpse. Under the dust, it looked like...he poked at the dust with a pencil.   
  
"What the - ?" There was a robe - fraying and dirty, but probably still wearable - under all the dust. "What are you doing here?" he murmured, staring at the robe with a slight frown on his face. There's no way cloth could survive down there in such an advanced state for thousands of years. It had to be a hoax.  
  
Unless - Cyril scratched the stubble on his chin, then pointed the flashlight at the walls.   
  
"Ahh..." They weren't bare after all, but covered with shallow, chiseled inscriptions. The circular symbols, none bigger than his pinkie finger, were definitely not Heiratic or hieroglyphic.   
  
They were Atlantean, Cyril realized, surprised he hadn't figured it out earlier.  
  
"Son of a bitch!" Cyril exclaimed as he stared at the ancient writing, then laughed and shook his head. "Figures. Sea kings...of course." This was the find of a lifetime. An actual intact Atlantean burial chamber, not like the rubble in Bermuda and the Azores. The writing alone would set archaeology on its head. He laughed again, realizing what an academic shitstorm this would kick up. They'd have to throw out every single textbook on human 'prehistory' after this.  
  
He turned back to the remains on the central platform. "So who are you, huh? And what are you doing way out here? Miss the bus to Dimension Z or something? And why," he whispered, "are you twinkling?"   
  
Cyril stepped to the edge of the platform and blew the dust off whatever reflected the light from his flashlight.   
  
"Huh. What do we have here?" he asked, picking up the object to get a better look. It was a small gold rod, six inches long and half an inch thick, topped with a silver button. The bulk of the rod was divided into four equal sections separated by narrow gaps with vertical grooves. Each of the sections had four tiny glyphs on it, none of which was the   
same as any of the others.  
  
Cyril frowned and turned the rod over in his hand. He could have sworn he'd seen something like this in one of his books...what the hell was it?  
  
It looked like the four segments were made to turn - he experimentally twisted the lowest section, the one with a simple crescent on it, clockwise until the next little glyph, a seven sided star, was facing him. Nothing happened.  
  
"Well, come on...don't tell me you're just some kind of kiddie toy..." Cyril muttered, glaring at the rod. "Do something," he said, twisting the section another quarter of the way around. "Come on..."  
  
Still nothing.  
  
Cyril sighed and shook his head. Messing with Atlantean relics probably wasn't a good idea. Look what had happened to Rupert's young friend Imoen - the poor girl was still stuck in another dimension.  
  
Besides, there had to be more toys around here somewhere. He stuck the rod into his pocket. There was a clicking sound.  
  
Cyril had time to say "Oh, shit!" before there was a blinding flash of light. A portal had roared to life, it's point of origin the rod in his hands. Not knowing why, perhaps it was just a fascination, Cyril stepped into it.  
  
His consciousness soared at light speed, through a kaleidoscope of colors until another flash of bright light. Then he wasn't moving. The bright light faded into buildings, people, etc. After a second, he realized he wasn't dead. Once he took a closer look at his new surroundings, he nearly fainted.  
  
He definitely wasn't in Ethiopia any more.   
  
Hell, he wasn't on Earth any more, either.  
  
Cyril looked around at the amazing crystal towers and the hundreds of flying cars and almost got vertigo. It was like nothing he'd ever seen except in - in the movies...  
  
He frowned and glanced around at the somewhat startled throng of pedestrians that he'd appeared in. Not all of them were human. Things that looked like rejects from a Star Trek episode stared at him in confusion.  
  
"Son of a bitch..." Cyril grinned from ear to ear and waved at the gaping people, then pulled the artifact out of his pocket. He clicked the lowest section a quarter turn clockwise, then pressed the button at the top.  
  
Once again, the portal appeared.  
  
The portal snapped shut behind him after spitting him out. Cyril felt the heat and knew he was back in Ethiopia.  
  
There was an excited and fearful yell from the top of the stairs.  
  
"Dottore! Dottore!" Taye shouted, his wizened face just barely visible at the exit of the tomb.  
  
"Hang on! I'm okay," Cyril replied, staring down at the Atlantean rod in awe. Even as he looked at it, the very idea that he'd traveled across the universe to - well, somewhere - grew more absurd with each passing second. But where else could he have gone? It definitely wasn't a hallucination - the rod was still slightly warm to the touch.  
  
He finally let out another long curse and began to grin. "I know who needs to have a look at you," Cyril said as he hid the rod inside his jacket before Taye and the others could see it. There was someone who needed it a lot more than the Adis Adaba Historical Museum.  
  
"I'm coming up," Cyril called out. He took another look at the body on the slab and smiled slightly. Find of the century.  
  
As he climbed back up the cold black stairs, a shadow in the far end of the tomb seemed to stretch forward, creeping slowly towards the exit, unnoticed by all.  
  
-  
  
Sunnydale, California  
Nine Days Later  
  
Rupert Giles, Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris all stared at the Atlantean rod with varying degrees of confusion.  
  
Finally, Buffy raised her hand.  
  
"Buffy, yes?" Cyril asked, suddenly feeling like he was teaching Intro to Archaeology at UCLA. On the other hand, he'd never taught a class in someone's living room, like he was now.  
  
Buffy pointed at the artifact. "It's, uh, very pretty. In a not pretty kind of way. But what is it?"  
  
"Yeah. I could be hard at sleep right now," Xander said with a yawn. "It's very unnatural to be up at 10:00 on a Saturday."  
  
"It's a gateway - or rather, the key to a gateway - to other worlds. Other dimensions," Cyril replied.  
  
He could see the mental wheels turning (some more slowly than others). Then Xander's eyes widened and a strange cross between a gasp and a cough came out of his mouth. "Like, Star Wars world?" he finally asked.  
  
"Yes. I was there."  
  
"There - as in, there?" Buffy asked. "Naboo?"  
  
Cyril shrugged. "I don't know, never been there. It was a city, but the primary building material was some sort of crystal. Definitely high-technology, though, judging by the methods of transportation..." His voice trailed off when he saw the blank looks the three teenagers were giving him. "Flying cars. It wasn't Earth."   
  
"Alderaan," Xander said. "It has to be. How do we use it?"  
  
"I'm not sure it's such a good idea to use it - "  
  
Xander stood up and took a half-step towards Cyril, an angry look in his eyes.  
  
" - yet," Cyril finished. "I know you're eager to get back there and I want to help."  
  
"Oh." Xander sat down again. "Go on."  
  
"But we don't know how many times it will work. We have to be ready for whatever is on the other side."  
  
"We know what's on the other side. Buffy's been there and so have I," Xander protested impatiently. "Lots of planets, smelly aliens, yadda yadda yadda. We put on warm clothes and go. Nuff said."  
  
"Xander's right. Why waste time? Who knows how long that thing will work now that you dug it up?" Buffy asked. "Alderaan's a nice planet. Or so I've heard."  
  
Cyril frowned, trying to remember those damn movies. "Isn't that the one that got blown up?"  
  
"All the more reason to go now, don't you think?" Willow asked. "Before it blows up and you end up teleporting into outer space."  
  
"Will's got a point. Right, Giles?"  
  
All eyes turned to the ex-librarian, who nodded after a few seconds. "The children have a good point, Cyril. These sort of magicks are very unstable. It might be degrading even as we speak. If we're to go get Imoen, which I assume is Xander's idea - "  
  
"Of course!"  
  
"Quite right - as I was saying, if we're to have any reasonable chance of getting her back to Earth, it will have to be done soon."  
  
Cyril nodded. He didn't entirely like the idea, but the logic was good. "All right. So we'll go. Who? How many?"   
  
"Well, I'm going," Xander said, crossing his arms stubbornly.  
  
Buffy smiled. "I think we all expected that. But who else? It's a long way from Alderaan to Naboo," she said. "Safety in numbers seems like a good plan."  
  
"You and Xander have both been there. You seem like the logical candidates." Cyril tapped the rod against his forearm. "But you might need someone familiar with the culture."  
  
"Let me guess, that someone would be you?" Xander asked.  
  
"Cyril is an expert in Atlantis, which this Alderaan seems to be a descendent of," Giles pointed out. "His knowledge might come in useful if you encounter any difficulties."  
  
"And three is a good number," Willow added. "It was holy to the Atlanteans," she said. Cyril and Giles both stared at her, causing her to blush. "I've been reading about them since last summer," she explained.  
  
"Really? Have you checked out Tyndale's Revelation or the Chronicle of Aelfwine?" Cyril asked.   
  
Before Willow could answer, Buffy cleared her throat. "Guys, save the book reviews for later, okay? Me, Xander and Cyril go. Willow and Giles, you stay here and - well, think good thoughts for us."  
  
"I wish we still had that crystal," Xander said. "That way you could at least know if we got into trouble."  
  
"I wish we had the crystal, too," Cyril said. If only that bastard Ethan Rayne hadn't taken it with him when he vanished. If he hadn't, of course, this whole debate would be academic - Xander's girlfriend Imoen would have been rescued a year ago. "But this is just as good. Better, even, since it's reliable and safe. I think."  
  
"Okay. So we're settled, then," Xander said. "Let's go."  
  
"This second?" Buffy frowned skeptically. Not wasting time was one thing, but running off without any kind of planning was pushing it. "Let's at least pack some stuff. Food and stuff. We don't have any Star Wars money, remember?"  
  
"A change of clothes might also be a good idea."  
  
Xander frowned, but finally nodded. "Okay. That shouldn't take long. Meet back here in half an hour?"  
  
"All right," Buffy said, grabbing her purse as she stood up. "My mom's in Boston for the week, so I can just leave her a note. We'll probably be back before she is, anyway."  
  
"And my parents..." Xander shrugged. "And I've got the next few days off at Ciano's anyway."  
  
"Uh, Xander, what are you gonna tell Chrissa?" Willow asked hesitantly.  
  
Xander's face fell for a second, then he smiled shakily. "I'll tell her something when I get back. We've only been going out for two months. It's not like we're engaged. We haven't even really kissed...that many times," he said.   
  
"Xander, you're rambling. And rationalizing," Buffy said in a slightly stern tone that reminded Cyril of the other Slayers he'd met in the past. And of Marine Corps Drill Sergeants.  
  
"I'm not rationalizing," Xander replied. "Chrissa and I are just friends. It's not serious. Anyway, I'll be back in half an hour." Before Buffy or anybody else could say another word, he hurried out of Giles' house.  
  
"I guess I should go pack and write the note," Buffy said after a short, awkward silence. "I'll be back."  
  
"I'll come with," Willow said, following Buffy out the door.   
  
-  
  
Buffy and Willow were the first to return. The Slayer was lugging a backpack that resembled the kind Army paratroopers wore.  
  
"That's taking 'be prepared' to the Nth degree, don't you think?" Cyril asked, staring at the massive backpack in amusement. "What in God's name do you have in there?"  
  
"Everything. Clothes, a half-dozen stakes, some knives, food, a flashlight, a crossbow..."  
  
"Buffy, you're going to Alderaan, not the Australian Outback," Giles pointed out.  
  
"I know. But Imoen isn't on Alderaan. Probably. Who knows how long it will take to find her? I don't want to get caught off-guard like last time," she explained. "Besides, what if we run into another Jinn like Saar and Serena? Too bad I don't have a lightsabre."  
  
"Too bad we don't have any Star Wars money," Cyril replied. "That's probably going to be more useful than weapons."  
  
"I hope you're right," Buffy said, not nearly as confident as Cyril that things would go smoothly once they left. "But I'll keep the weapons."  
  
"Even the crossbow?" Willow asked. "What if they don't allow weapons on Alderaan?"  
  
Buffy frowned and took the crossbow out of the bag with a sigh. "Stupid pacifists. I'm not ditching the stakes though."  
  
"Come on, let's keep a little optimism here," Xander said as he came in the door. "This will be like a weekend vacation. So are we ready to go?" he asked, dropping his own bag on the floor.  
  
"What did you pack?" Buffy asked. She picked up the backpack and laughed. "Is there anything in here at all?"  
  
"There's a pair of clean underwear and suitable food and reading material," Xander muttered.  
  
Buffy opened the bag and laughed again. "Three comic books and six Hershey bars? This is suitable food and reading material?"  
  
"They might not have chocolate on Alderaan, all right? And they're not all comic books, one's a graphic novel. Film adaptation. And I have my CD player in there, too."  
  
"Well, I guess it might be fun if we're stuck on a spaceship for a few hours," Buffy conceded as she handed Xander his backpack. "So are we ready to go? How does this thing work, anyway?"  
  
Cyril held out the rod and pointed at the four rows of symbols. "These turn. They're like coordinates - there are two hundred and fifty six possible combinations. Then you just press the button here," he explained. "It's like a Stargate."  
  
"Where do the other combinations take you?"  
  
"Beats me," Cyril said. "I was lucky I landed on a safe world. The Numenoreans supposedly visited all sorts of hellish realms before they left this universe. That's how they learned to drive back the demon kings, according to the legends. Which may be a bit self-serving - the Red Book hints that their 'gods' were the real force behind the defeat of the de..." He broke off and shrugged. "Sorry. Force of habit. I'm ready if you two are, anyway."  
  
Xander glanced at Buffy. "No time like the present, right?"  
  
The Slayer nodded and put her backpack on. "Yeah...So what do we do?"  
  
"Just hold my hand, I think. And you hold her hand, Xander. That should link us."  
  
"Oh! Like in the Raising of Andakil!" Willow exclaimed. "Just like in the book. I wish I could go."  
  
"Someone has to stick behind and come up with a plan B in case we don't come back, Willow," Buffy pointed out. "If we're not back in a week, start to worry."  
  
"All right." Willow hugged Buffy and Xander, then stepped back as they walked over to Cyril. "Be careful. May the Force be with you!"  
  
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Giles asked Cyril.  
  
"What? I didn't catch that. Bye!" Cyril replied, pressing the button on the rod. He led the two kids into the portal.  
  
Giles shielded his eyes as the room lit up, then frowned and stared into the portal that had suddenly appeared. There was a shadow - or he thought there was. Before his eyes could adjust, the portal closed, leaving him and Willow alone in the living room.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
- Aldera City, Alderaan -  
  
"Arrrrrrrrrrrgh! Ooof!"  
  
Buffy spilled out of the open portal and landed hard on a paved surface. She grunted as she pushed herself to her knees and the portal snapped shut behind her.  
  
"Ow... that kinda, sorta _hurt_," she grumbled.  
  
Xander held out a hand to her. "Hey, we all took a nasty fall on the landing, Buff," he told her as he helped her to her feet. He smiled a little as he brushed her off. "You okay?"  
  
Buffy massaged her left shoulder which had come down on her backpack in her landing. "I think so. That hand holding bit was a great idea. Pfft. I about had my arm yanked out of it's socket two seconds into the ride," she replied. She looked around. "Where the hell are we? Is this Alderaan?"  
  
They didn't appear to be _anywhere_ alien. Two rather large, bland buildings sat on either side of Buffy and Xander, creating the alley they stood in. A bustle of noise came from straight ahead, most likely the main part of the city. This definitely wasn't the sprawling, glimmering metropolis that Xander had described to the others.  
  
"Aldera City, actually," Xander replied. He swallowed hard as he looked around the shadow filled alley. An eerie feeling crept over him. There was a moment while they were racing through that psychedelic tube of space and time and reality when Xander felt like they weren't alone. Something else was with the three of them.  
  
Buffy slung her bag over her right shoulder. "Where's Cyril?"  
  
"He went on up the alley," Xander answered, indicating with a pointed finger. "I stayed here to wait for you. I'm a gentleman and all." He smiled weakly. "He's excited about this place, that's for sure."  
  
"Well, I can say one thing for that Atlantean rod," Buffy said as she and Xander walked towards the mouth of the alley. "It dumped us in a very non-public place." She rubbed her shoulder again. "I'm taking a pillow with me when we go back, though."  
  
"Good idea," Xander agreed. He and Buffy stopped once they stepped out of the alley and into the massive crowd of people. It was a business area of Aldera City, not unlike a bazaar in some Middle Eastern country, with merchants calling out to passersby, trying to sell their wares.  
  
"Well... wow," Buffy remarked as they watched the vast array of humans and aliens barter in a hundred different languages. "This isn't quite what I expected this place to look like."  
  
"Me either," Xander said. They joined the moving crowd of people and began to search for Cyril. "I was never in this part of the city when... when Imoen and I were here."   
  
Buffy glanced at him, but didn't say anything. Instead, she kept her eyes peeled for Cyril. "I hope nothin' happened to him, 'cause that's the last thing we need - trouble."  
  
"Which is exactly why I stayed away from this part of town," Xander said. He grunted as an alien species he wasn't familiar with bumped by him. "Hey!" he started to protest.  
  
Buffy grabbed Xander's arm and pulled him along. "Suck it up and move, Xander," she ordered. "We don't have time to pick fights with aliens. I don't fancy the idea of that rod crapping out and us being stuck in this place forever." She motioned ahead. "Look. There's Cyril."  
  
Up ahead, Cyril stood with a fabric merchant, listening attentively to the human as he examined the wares before him.   
  
"Great. We're getting kicking around by aliens and he's shopping!" Xander grumbled.  
  
"It's a lovely piece," Cyril was saying to the merchant as Buffy and Xander approached. "But I haven't the money for it." He smiled apologetically. "Sorry."  
  
"Republic credits are welcome here, my friend," the merchant told Cyril with a hopeful grin. He held up the shimmering white cloth Cyril'd been admiring. "Tis nice, isn't it? Perhaps your wife might like it... as a gift? It's very fine Alderaanian silk. None other like it in the galaxy!"  
  
Cyril chuckled. "No wife. But thanks for your time, anyway." He looked to his left as Buffy and Xander stopped. "Oh... hello."  
  
"Is that all you have to say for yourself?" Buffy demanded, her hands on her hips. She tilted her head to one side. "Thanks ever so much for ditching us in the alleyway."  
  
Cyril sheepishly smiled. "I'm sorry. It's just this place is so... intoxicating," he replied. He looked up and down the street. "Do you realize how much this culture resembles that of ancient Egypt? Or even elements of modern day middle eastern and Mediterranean societies?"  
  
Xander and Buffy glanced at their surroundings. "Not really caring," Xander flatly replied. "We're here to find _Imoen_, remember?"   
The fabric merchant's eyes widened slightly. "Imoen? Imoen Earendil?"  
  
"Yes, that's her," Xander replied.  
  
The merchant's eyes glowed with admiration as he stared at Buffy. "If you know of her... and are searching for her..." He clasped his hands together as his voice trailed off.  
  
Buffy shifted uncomfortably as the merchant just beamed at her. "Yeah, we are. And what's your major malfunction?" She brushed a hand over her mouth. "Is something caught between my teeth?"  
  
The merchant laughed. "You are just as Imoen described you, Mistress Buffy," he happily exclaimed.  
  
"Huh?" Xander asked.  
  
"What?" Cyril said at the same time.  
  
Buffy sighed as she placed a hand to her forehead. "Oh man. Not the 'Mistress' stuff again!"  
  
"Y-you know her?" Cyril asked the merchant as he pointed to Buffy. "How?"  
  
"Imoen tells us many stories about her time on Earth," the merchant replied. "We know of Mistress Buffy's heroic deeds there and also in this part of the universe. The heroine of the Naboo. She saved their queen from an assassination attempt." He bowed slightly to Buffy. "It is an honor to have you among us, Buffy Summers."  
  
Buffy blinked. "Uhhh... well... um... thanks? I guess."  
  
Xander put a hand on the merchant's shoulder to get his attention. "Imoen's here? On Alderaan?" he asked.  
  
"Not right now," the merchant replied. He looked from Buffy back to Xander. "She works for a Coreillian named Tev Erled. Imoen's a legend around here -"  
  
"For more reasons than one!" cut in a female pottery merchant who'd been eavesdropping on the conversation. "Always talking about death and impending doom for the Republic. The rise of the... what did she call it?"  
  
"The Empire?" Xander supplied.  
  
The woman snapped her fingers. "That's it! Crazy, is what she is. Claimin' to know the future!" She snorted. "I don't see why you continue to associate with her and them no good smuggler types she works with, Fylar."  
  
"So Imoen is on Coreillia?" Xander asked, impatient with this damn woman butting into a conversation that was none of her business.  
  
Fylar, the fabric merchant, nodded. "Yes. Tev's operation, one of the largest in the galaxy, is based there." He lowered his voice. "But you didn't hear that from me!"  
  
Buffy sighed as she let her hands drop to her sides. "Coreillia! It might as well be some planet off in the... whatever the furthest place is from here! How do we get there with no money to buy passage on one of those spaceships?"  
  
"Spaceships?" Cyril said, his interest piqued. Now that would be quite the experience, a trip on one of these vessels he thought only existed in movies.  
  
"If you are in need of a ride to Coreillia, E'lia can help you," Fylar told them. He looked at the woman. "Her brother in law owns a few liners and she could arrange some passage for you... free of charge."  
  
E'lia started to protest, but sighed. "Yes, I suppose I could," she replied. Unfortunately, Fylar knew that her brother-in-law held Imoen in high regard.  
  
Xander couldn't believe the incredible luck they'd caught. "Wow. Thanks!" Soon, he would be on Coreillia and have Imoen back in his arms... then they would all go home and forget about this ugly mess.  
  
Fylar broadly grinned, pleased he was able to aid such a heroine and her friends on their journey. "I could get you some more... suitable attire for our little part of the galaxy, Mistress," he offered. He motioned to his sizeable stand. "I am a fabric merchant with... many connections."   
  
Buffy glanced down at her own jeans and pink T-shirt. "Well, new clothes would make us stick out less. I don't see anybody else around here in Lee's." She looked to Fylar. "Thanks a lot!"   
  
"That problem's solved." Cyril shrugged. He had to admit he was impressed at how obliging these people could be to those they respected. One didn't see helpfulness like this on Earth nowadays.   
  
Xander saw the prideful glow on Buffy's face. She enjoyed all the fawning. "Yeah," he responded, flatly. "Thanks to Buffy Summers, the Intergalactic Heroine."  
  
-  
  
- Coruscant -  
  
After a short, yet brilliant flash of light, the dark shadow that had followed Cyril, Buffy and Xander into the vortex arrived in the _Star Wars_ universe. But not on Alderaan like the humans had. The shadow wavered slightly as the portal snapped shut. Slowly, he drifted down the halls of the Senate Chambers.   
  
What is this place? the shadow wondered. To his left were windows that looked out upon a grand and charged planet. This was not the home he'd left so many millennia ago. This was some place different. No telling where he could be after those humans toyed with the dimension opening rod.  
  
The shadow floated down the halls, going unnoticed by the people and guards decked out in blue uniforms posted at the doors. He had not gone far until he sensed a very distinct and strong power in the area. This was a power he'd not felt since...   
  
Atlantean priests, the shadow thought. But... this was not any type of power one of those priests emitted. This was much more Dark. Evil. Sinister. But it was a power, nonetheless. Without the rod, he was stranded in this alien universe. He would need help to retrieve it from the Slayer.  
  
With ease, the shadow slid through the doorway and into the chambers of the Supreme Chancellor. The sound of a man's voice talking led the shadow forward. In the next room was an older man, his silver hair brushed back on his head and his body adorned with flowing blue robes with intricate black trim. The man was not very pleased with something.  
  
"Little imp," Supreme Chancellor Palpatine muttered as he threw aside a datapad. "More inquiries into the increase in funds to the military budget!"  
  
The shadow lurked quietly, watching the man rant and rave.  
  
Senator Mon Mothma stirred up things with her speeches about how relations in the galaxy had not improved since Palpatine took over as Chancellor. Fortunately, he'd brought enough good to the Republic to prove her wrong. Still, it annoyed him to no end. And he had the distinct feeling she would be a larger problem in the future.   
  
"Brat gets a seat in the Senate and immediately begins to cause trouble for me," Palpatine continued as he walked over to his full length windows. He stared out across the skyline of Coruscant. "I've worked hard for this." He paused. He was not alone in this room.  
  
The shadow moved away as Palpatine walked towards where the thing lurked. "I feel you," Palpatine said as he looked around the room. "Show yourself... so that I may know who you are."  
  
Before Palpatine's eyes, a formless shadow morphed into a 3-D form. This creature was not human, nor was it any type of alien. This was something very different. Powerful. Strong in the Force.  
  
The gray skinned humanoid creature with bluish eyes and a mop of ash colored hair stared back at Palpatine. His form was draped in the black robes of his people - the Nitreans. Demons who'd existed on Earth for millennia before any form of man crawled out of the primordial ooze.  
  
"Who are you?" Palpatine asked once he'd taken a good enough look at the creature.  
  
"I am Setamek. Leader of the Nitrean people," the creature responded in a low, even voice. His hands came together in front of him, palms touching. He bowed his head slightly. "You, I assume, are a grand wizard. Descended of the Numenor. The power of your magickal aura drew me here. So many thousands of years ago, your people conquered mine, drove us from your dimension. I accept the defeat but require your aid only once, Grand Master."  
  
Palpatine had no idea what this creature was talking about. Nitreans? Numenor? "You require the aid of Grand Master Palpatine?" he asked. When the creature nodded, he chuckled. "What do you ask of me, vanquished one?"  
  
Setamek bowed his head to Palpatine once more before speaking. "I require your help to return to my own dimension, Grand Master," he replied. "A few Earth beings have taken my K'linok rod, my way home. I would like your help to get it back."  
  
Palpatine became interested at the mention of - "Earth beings?"   
  
Setamek's head bowed once more. "Yes, Grand Master. The girl who is called Slayer and two of her friends," he answered. "They used it to come here. They search for someone named Imoen. I fear the Slayer is too powerful for me to take on in my weakened state, Grand Master. She could surely destroy me."   
  
The wheels in the Supreme Chancellor's twisted mind spun around and around. He'd been searching for someone suitable to replace Maul as his apprentice. The young Slayer held untold power. Perhaps Buffy could be his next apprentice? She had no love for the Jedi, the same as he. She'd told the Council where to shove their rules and regulations.  
  
A smile spread across his face. She was weak and foolish. Easy prey. It would solve two problems: Eliminate the defense of Earth and give him a new student.   
  
"I think we might be able to work something out, my dear Setamek," Palpatine replied. He turned when the beep of his comlink caught his attention. He pressed a button. "Chancellor Palpatine, who is this?" he asked.  
  
"Supreme Chancellor, it's Par Devli," a voice replied from the comlink. "One of your agents on Alderaan, sir."  
  
Palpatine nodded. "Oh, yes, of course," he replied. The Office of the Doctrine of the Republic, the legitimate agency of people he'd instituted not long after taking over the role of Supreme Chancellor, had proven most useful over the last few months.   
  
People stationed in every major city on every planet in the galaxy occasionally reported in with information on anything and everything. The fools thought they were doing 'good' work by this, but in actuality, the information helped Palpatine build his defense against those who would work to destroy him.  
  
"Chancellor, I was just in Aldera City and learned that the Earth Ambassador Harris and the Mistress Buffy Summers booked passage on a liner whose final destination is Coreillia," Par Devli reported. "If it is not too forward of me to suggest, Chancellor, perhaps it would be a proper gesture to extend an invitation to them to visit Coruscant?"  
  
Palatine smiled. "No, Par Devli, it is _not_ too forward of you. Thank you so much for the information." He hit a button, severing the communication. Coreillia. The Naboo handmaid, Imoen, the one the Earth Ambassador had an interest in, lived there. No telling what trouble they could stir up with her on their side - a respected young woman such as Buffy Summers. And that Ambassador Harris.  
  
He turned his attention to Setamek. "Go to Coreillia," he ordered. "Kill friends of the Slayer, but bring her to me. I could use her."   
  
Setamek blinked. "Grand Master, I do not understand. I only ask for your help to go back to my dimension," he said. "I came to you so I would not have to face the Slayer."  
  
Palpatine turned around, his eyes narrowing at Setamek as he approached him. "If you wish my help to go home, you will do what I ask," he replied in a low voice. "Once you fulfill this request, I shall help."  
  
Setamek's eyes lowered. The Numenor people had exacted great vengeance on his kind all those thousands and thousands of years ago. His demon people nearly obliterated the early civilizations of man in hopes of holding onto Earth as a demon realm. Obviously, the descendants of them were still bitter.   
  
"I will do as you request, but remember, you promised to help me."   
  
"Of course." Palpatine smiled briefly then an evil expression washed over his face. "Kill the Slayer's companions and Imoen Earendil." He pointed a finger at Setamek. "I want Mistress Buffy Summers alive."  
  
Setamek nodded. He was not certain he could trust the wizard to keep his word. Yet he had nowhere else to turn except this powerful magick user. "Yes, Grand Master," he replied with a slight bow.   
  
-  
  
- Enroute to Coreillia -  
  
Buffy entered the little cabin Xander'd shut himself up in since they'd departed some little planet Buffy'd never heard of. The trip to Coreillia may have been free, but they'd had to make a few stops on other planets along the way. She was worried about Xander. He'd been so withdrawn over the entire cruise.  
  
Xander stared at the floor like he had been for the last hour. He sat slumped in a chair, his headphones on, listening to Beth Orton, one of Imoen's favorite makers of Earth music.   
  
"Sometimes I've tried to tell myself/  
The light was never real/  
Just a fantasy that used to be/  
The way I used to feel/  
But you and I know better/  
Even though it's been so long/  
And if your memory really serves you well/  
You'll never tell me no wrong...."  
  
Buffy sat down, tapping Xander gently on the shoulder. She smiled a little when he pulled off his headphones and clicked his CD player off. "You all right?" she asked.  
  
Xander shrugged.  
  
Buffy pressed her lips together. "You wouldn't believe how many people on this ship know who I am, Xander. It's like... being a celebrity. Like I'm Julia Roberts." She paused, reconsidering. "Or maybe a blonde Carrie-Anne Moss..."  
  
Xander slumped lower in his chair, sighing.  
  
"Xander, what's wrong?"   
  
"Oh, it's just that I had to live in your shadow the last time I was here." He gave her a faux grin. "I should know how to deal with it by now. The fact you're a somebody and I'm a nobody. One of the best things about having Imoen around... we could be nobodies together."  
  
Buffy's face flushed pink with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Xander," she apologized. She shrugged her shoulder. "It's a new experience, having all these people looking up at me like... like..."   
  
"Like you're a goddess?"   
  
"Well, I wouldn't say _that_."   
  
"I'm happy your work is appreciated by so many people here. But, remember, Buffy, Giles, Willow, a bunch of people on Earth and I appreciate you too."   
  
Cyril joined them, breaking up the rather somber mood of the room.  
  
"Space travel!" he declared as he entered. He shook his head. "The things the Atlanteans have accomplished here are mind boggling."  
  
One of Buffy's eyebrows arched as she looked to Cyril. "Reality check, Cyril. This place is _fictional_."   
  
"How can we be so sure?"   
  
"Hmmm." She pretended to think it over. "Oh, I know! The place didn't exist until Lucas thought it up!"   
  
"Can you prove that? So much of Aldera City had architecture like Atlantis."   
  
"Can you prove _that_?"   
  
Cyril hesitated, trying to think of a response. "W-w-well... there aren't any _actual_ pictures, but artist representations...."   
  
Buffy held up her hands. "Your honor, I rest my case."   
  
"But, Buffy, how could the Atlanteans escape to a fictional universe?"   
  
"Cyril, I don't think there is any connection," she replied, a little on edge at his constant yammering that this place was the lost civilization of Atlantis. It was a fictional place. He needed to accept it and move on. "Lots of people use stuff from history and mythology to create their stories. Maybe Lucas used some elements of Atlantis?"   
  
Cyril showed rod to Buffy. "But we got here using this."   
  
"Maybe it's got a glitch in it? It _has_ been buried for a couple million years."   
  
"Or..." Xander slowly said as he sat up in his chair. He looked over to Buffy and Cyril. "George Lucas is _really_ a descendant of the Atlanteans, placed in our dimension as a small child to grow up and create the _Star Wars_ universe to fool us into thinking this is all _fake_!"   
  
Cyril and Buffy only stared at him.  
  
After a few moments of dead silence, Buffy said, "Xander, did you hit your head at some point and I wasn't aware of it?"   
  
"It's only a theory," Xander replied as he slumped back down in his chair. He looked away. "And I never claimed it was a good one."   
  
"Nor does it have any basis in reality," Buffy added.  
  
Xander ignored the rest of Buffy and Cyril's discussion about how real the _Star Wars_ universe was. He had bigger problems eating at him. He'd made a promise to Imoen to come back soon. So much time had passed in the _SW_ verse, roughly a year and a half. What if she was angry with him?  
  
-  
  
- Coruscant -  
  
Senator Mon Mothma sighed as she read the latest Summary of the Day report printed by the Senatorial Record Office. More pointless debate about which sectors would get the lion's share of the yearly HyperNet funds but only a token discussion of the commission of nine more Victory-class destroyers and a Liberty-class cruiser.  
  
She put the report down on her desk with a disgusted sneer. No wars in over a thousand years and still the Chancellor's faction was voting for more warships. Just one more reason to question his policies - and it was clear that Palpatine was behind the "Vigilant" faction in the Senate. The Kuats and Tagges had all the subtlety of a Rancor. Only Palpatine could make them and their allies such an effective voting bloc. Bill after bill passed due to their support, endearing them to dozens of sectors and species. The growth of their faction was disturbingly like cancer, and as yet there had been no efforts to counter them.  
  
The lack of any real response to the Vigilants was part of the reason Mon Mothma had called a meeting of her Senatorial friends today. That, and other, more disturbing rumors that had reached her ear lately. Prophets of doom popping up in the Core Worlds and tales of alien warlords and pirate gangs forming out in the Unknown Territories. Something had to be done about all of it. Since the Chancellor was part of the problem, turning to him was clearly out of the question. Thus, Mon Mothma had summoned her closest colleagues to her home.  
  
Even as Mon Mothma moved to her desk to find out how far away her friends were, the  
comlink chimed.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Senator, the trade delegation from Perelandra has arrived," her aide, Tel Tuza, announced over the comlink. That bit of subterfuge had been Senator bel Iblis' idea - he had insisted on it, in fact. Paranoid man, Mon Mothma thought with a slight smile, but of like mind with her on most issues.  
  
She sat down at her desk and waited for the other Senators to arrive. Aside from bel Iblis, she had also invited Bail Antilles of Alderaan, Arlen Charkiss of Samothrace and Tara Belinar of Mobi.   
  
The four Senators entered her office a few minutes after the call. After the usual pleasantries were exchanged, Charkiss steered the conversation to the main topic with a typically blunt "Well, what did you make us come here for? Certainly not to discuss Perelandrian trade links with your home world. We do have business of our own, so I trust it's important."  
  
"Senator Charkiss is right, in his usual outspoken way," Senator Belinar said softly. "Why _have_ you called us together?"  
  
"For two reasons. First, and most importantly, this Vigilant party in the Senate. I'm sure you all noticed that more than a dozen non-aligned Senators joined them in voting for the new Naval construction bill this morning," Mon Mothma replied.  
  
"Yes, we were all there," Charkiss pointed out. "What is your point?"  
  
"I believe she is alarmed at the rapid rise in prominence of that particular faction," bel Iblis said. "As am I. The Kuats and Tagges have never been friends and now they cooperate and bring together almost a third part of the entire Senate on a regular basis."  
  
"Yes, precisely," Mon Mothma said, relieved and surprised the somewhat prickly bel Iblis was supporting her. "Consider this - in less than a year, Senator Tagge and Senator Kuat have gone from bitter rivals to close allies. They openly support bills that have the hand of Chancellor Palpatine all over them. Bills that do not always have the best interests of the Republic at heart."  
  
Bail Antilles leaned forward and steepled his hands, a slightly worried look on his face. "That's a rather bold thing to say, Mon Mothma. There are many who would say that the Chancellor's policies strengthen the Republic."  
  
"In this matter, I'd be one of them," Charkiss added. "Our frontier defenses are stretched thin. The Outer Rim sectors need more destroyers to keep pirates and gangsters in line."  
  
"Then why didn't you vote for the bill?" Tara asked, trying not to scowl at the balding Samothracian. They stood on opposite ends of the political divide and, Mon Mothma feared, would probably reject the other's proposals out of sheer spite.   
  
"Because the ships are going to be locked up in the Core just like all the other ships that have been built in the last fifty years. Cozy sectors like Salamina - and Mobi - get vessels they don't need while the planets on the Outer Rim are left defenseless."  
  
Mon Mothma sighed and cut in before the two could go from bickering to screaming insults. "Tara, Arlen, the specific bills are not the issue. Rather, it is the general trend in the Senate. Palpatine's election as Chancellor has not reversed anything. Quite the opposite - the pointless bickering has grown more frequent over the past two years. Even routine operations are becoming mired down in committees and squabbles."  
  
"I don't think that the Republic has ever functioned perfectly. What large organization has?" Charkiss asked. "And the Sector Assemblies have always been the muscles of the government," he said.  
  
"Yes, but the Galactic Senate is the heart and soul of the Republic," Mon Mothma replied. "What happens there has an impact on quintillions of citizens. And the fact remains that the Vigilants are not far away from forming a majority in the Senate. What happens when they no longer need to appeal to the non-aligned Senators? Will we even be a democracy any more?"  
  
Each of the others took that statement about as well as Mon Mothma expected - that is, extremely poorly. It took almost five minutes to shout them all down.  
  
"All right, let's say you're right - and I don't think you are. But if you are, what do we do?" Charkiss asked.   
  
"Organize!" Mon Mothma said. "Each of you are respected leaders in the Senate. Between us, we could call together hundreds of other Senators and actually block some of the more questionable bills from passing. And perhaps even remove the Chancellor and replace him with a more reasonable figure."  
  
Charkiss grunted in amusement, "Meaning you, I suppose?"  
  
"No, of course not," Mon Mothma protested. "Senator Antilles. You should have been Chancellor, not Palpatine."  
  
Antilles smiled fondly at the younger Senator. "Perhaps. But I am getting on in years. Perhaps my cousin Bail Organa would be more suitable for the role. But we are getting ahead of things, and far too alarmist, in my opinion. After all, Chancellor Palpatine has done quite a bit of good over the past two years. This Office of the Doctrine of the Republic - they've managed to increase ties between the various member worlds, for  
example."  
  
"Perhaps Antilles is right, Senator Mothma. Newer Senators perceive corruption and conspiracy all around at first," Charkiss added.  
  
"But the Republic has never interfered so closely in the affairs of its members," Tara pointed out with a glare at Charkiss. "Do we really need agents of the Chancellery on every important planet in the Galaxy?" she asked.  
  
"And why this constant harping on the 'defense' of the Republic? Against who are we to be measured? The pirates on the Outer Rim? Alien warlords so primitive they cannot threaten even the most remote outpost?"  
  
"Perhaps the Chancellor is concerned with the growing power of the Hutts and their associates. They wield great power in the Outer Rim. And if we are not prepared, it could be a repetition of the Naboo Crisis on a galactic scale," Antilles said.   
  
"You sound like those Doomspeakers who parade outside of the Senate every morning," Charkiss said with a sneer. "The Republic is not tottering on the edge of disaster."  
  
Mon Mothma hid a smile. Charkiss had played right into the second point she wanted to discuss. "I am not entirely convinced that's true, Senator. I have heard many rumors of such prophets lately. There is one in particular, a woman called Imoen - "  
  
Charkiss snorted. "I've heard of her. The one who shrieks that a dark lord of the Sith is going to seize power and lead the Republic into civil war? Only children listen to such stories."  
  
"Not just children," bel Iblis countered. "I know the woman you speak of. She lives on Coreillia. There are more than a few people who believe what she says, according to my reports."  
  
"Coreillia?" Mon Mothma entwined her fingers thoughtfully. "I think I would like to speak to this young woman," she said after a few seconds.  
  
"It won't be easy. There must be tens of thousands of 'Imoens' on Coreillia," bel Iblis pointed out. "It's not that uncommon a name."  
  
"If that even is her real name. I have a cousin named Imoen, for what it's worth," Antilles said.  
  
"Be that as it may, I still would like to speak with her." She glanced at bel Iblis. "Garm, I hesitate to ask such a favor, but perhaps one of your aides could find this woman and request she come to Coruscant?"  
  
Bel Iblis considered it, then nodded. "It's no problem. I'll have Alié bel Jinn find her. He's an expert at such things," he said, choosing not to explain that rather cryptic remark.  
  
Coreillians, Mon Mothma thought in amusement. "Thank you. I owe you a debt of gratitude."  
  
Charkiss made a point of glancing at his watch. "It's nearly six. I must go, I've got a meeting with High Admiral Arudrell about this blasted bill."  
  
"I also have to go," Tara said. "A delegation from Caamas has a petition of some sort they wish me to put forward in the Senate."  
  
"Very well. I do ask you to consider my words," Mon Mothma said. "The sooner we unite against these Vigilants, the easier it will be to break their coalition."  
  
"I will consider it," Antilles said as he stood up.  
  
"So will I," bel Iblis said. The others left without anything more than mere pleasantries.  
  
After they had all gone, Mon Mothma sat back down with a sigh. That hadn't gone as well as she'd hoped. At least this Imoen situation was progressing. A small blessing, though, a very small one.  
  
-  
  
- Coreillia -  
  
Xander and Buffy, followed by Cyril, made their way into the section of the city where Tev Erled's "illegal" operation was based. So many people were suspicious of three strangers asking about Erled, wondering if they were members of the Chancellor's Office of the Doctrine organization. Finally, Xander got someone to spill the beans and here they were.  
  
"This is an interesting place," Cyril commented as he watched a few humans walk by. They eyed him very suspiciously. He smoothed his hands over his new clothes, feeling a bit odd. "Where should we go next?"  
  
Xander shrugged. "These people aren't going to be very forthcoming with strangers asking for somebody. It was hard enough finding this place." He looked around. Nothing like he expected a black marketer's base of operations to look like. A few buildings, with a couple of transport ships and a landing area. "I wonder if Han Solo had to work under these conditions?"  
  
Buffy side glanced at Xander. "Let's just ask somebody." She stepped forward, stopping the next person to walk by. "Excuse me," she said then smiled politely when the gruff, older human man came to a halt and stared at her. "My friends and I are looking for Imoen Earendil. We were told by a merchant on Alderaan we could find her here, working for... Tev Erled."  
  
"And who's askin'?" the man asked. He raised an eyebrow as he gave Cyril and Xander the once over. "Ya look like members of that blasted agency of Republic spies the Supreme Chancellor put together."  
  
"I'm Buffy Summers," Buffy replied. She motioned to Xander and Cyril. "Xander Harris and Cyril Zahn. Imoen knows us. She'll vouch for us if she sees us."  
  
"It's okay, Darvis," said a female voice.  
  
Xander's face lit up in a relieved and happy smile. "Imoen," he whispered.  
  
Imoen Earendil glanced at the three Earth people then back to Darvis. "I do know them," she went on. She smiled as Darvis grunted a little. "Could you keep an eye on Tal for me while I talk with my... friends?"  
  
Darvis nodded, grunting again. "Sure, kid," he said.   
  
Imoen patted his shoulder as he walked by her. "Storage building C, Dar," she told him. "And don't let Tal write up the order sheets again. No matter what he says, he's still learning how to do that."  
  
Darvis waved a hand as he continued to walk around the corner, headed for the buildings. "Yeah, yeah. I got it."  
  
Imoen sighed as she turned her attention to Buffy, Xander and Cyril before her. She wondered if this was some sort of dream. No, it couldn't be a dream. If it were, Xander most surely would not be in it.  
  
Xander stared back at Imoen. She looked so much different than when he'd left her last. Her hair had grown back out, down to the middle of her back, her skin was much more pale, her frame so thin it seemed as though a stiff breeze would blow her away, and hints of black circles were under her eyes.  
  
"Imoen... " Buffy said after the long and uncomfortable silence. She looked back to Xander, who continued to stare at the girl. "We... um..." She shrugged. She didn't know quite what to say either. She expected the girl to just rush into Xander's arms and they'd all catch the next rod home.  
  
Imoen smiled as she approached the Slayer. "Buffy, I'm so pleased to see you!" she exclaimed. She wrapped her arms around her friend. "You've changed. But for the better."  
  
"It's gotta be the clothes," Buffy replied. She glanced down at the pant and tunic top outfit she wore. "I'm just glad we found you!"  
  
Imoen shook her head. "I never thought I would see you again." She frowned. "But how did you get here? Was there another Jinn spirit angry with you?" She looked over to Cyril. "Or did that horrible Ethan Rayne person return?"  
  
"Neither, thank God," Xander replied as he joined Buffy and Imoen. He frowned though when Imoen quickly looked away from him.   
  
"We had a little help from the ancient Atlanteans," Cyril replied. He brought forth the rod he'd found in the tomb and gave Imoen a quick explanation of what happened.  
  
"And it brought you here?" Imoen blinked. "But... how?"  
  
"We're not 100 percent sure on how," Buffy replied.  
  
"And you still used it to come here? Oh, Buffy, that wasn't wise. What if it can't get you home?"  
  
"It'd better get us home," Buffy said, giving Cyril a pointed look. "I have two tests next Monday."  
  
Imoen looked from Buffy to Cyril. "I do not understand. _Why_ did you come here when you found out the rod could bring you to my world?"  
  
Xander, Buffy and Cyril all exchanged a look.  
  
"Well... we came here to find you, and bring you back to the real world," Buffy replied.  
  
Imoen took a step back. "I don't want to go," she firmly said. She folded her arms across her chest and looked at Xander for the first time when she spoke, "I'm not leaving here."  
  
"Imoen, why don't you want to come back with us?" Cyril inquired. Great, that's all they needed. A hitch. They'd come all this way to get the girl, now she didn't want to leave. Still, the visit to Alderaan was enough to merit the trip.  
  
"I have a life here and I do not want to be uprooted from my world again." Imoen's arms dropped to her sides as her hard expression softened. "I'm sorry you've wasted your time coming here."   
  
Xander grabbed Imoen by the wrist as she tried to walk away. "I've come to take you home, Imoen." This was a statement of fact, not a request.   
  
"Home?" Imoen scoffed. "Home to me is _Naboo_, Xander. And I wouldn't go anywhere with you, if I wanted to, either." She jerked her arm out of his grasp, her eyes narrowing on him.   
  
Xander's mouth dropped open. What was with this hostile attitude? He'd expected some sort of negativity, but not this. "Imoen, you don't mean that."   
  
"Yes, I do." She flicked her gaze over to Buffy and Cyril. "Again, I'm sorry you wasted your time. Good-bye." She began to walk away, but slowed to a stop. The mention of Naboo had made her long to see her homeworld. She turned back to the three. "I haven't been there for almost two years. I wonder... how much has it changed? I would very much like to see Theed once more... before..."   
  
A light bulb illuminated in Xander's head. They all go back to Naboo. Perhaps seeing the old place would rekindle Imoen's hope... and her feelings for him. At the very least he'd have a chance to talk with her on the trip there.   
  
"Then we go there, Imoen," Xander said. He smiled a little when her gaze met his. "If you want to visit Naboo, I'm for it. Why shouldn't you?"  
  
"Oh... I... I couldn't," she quietly said, shaking her head.   
  
"Lady Imoen Earendil?"  
  
Imoen jumped slightly when a rather regal sounding voice addressed her. The handsome young man, dressed in clothes distinguishing him as an aide to Coreillian Senator Garm bel Iblis, nodded to her, pleased he'd found her.  
  
Xander looked from Imoen to this preppy looking guy. Who the hell is this? he wondered.  
  
"Yes. How may I help you?" Imoen asked. It'd been so long since anyone had called her "Lady".  
  
"I am Alié bel Jinn, my lady," the aide replied. "Garm bel Iblis sent me on behalf of Senator Mon Mothma. She requires your presence on Coruscant."   
  
"My presence?" Imoen's brow furrowed in puzzlement. Mon Mothma, one of the most respected Senators in the Republic, wanted to see.. her? "Whatever for?"   
  
"I was only told to find you, my lady," Jinn replied, a bit of an apologetic look on his face. "And request you come with me to Coruscant."   
  
"Coruscant?" Buffy repeated. She made a face. "Ugh." The crummy Jedi Council called that hole home. "I had bad experiences there. Don't really want to go back."  
  
"Nor do I," Imoen agreed with a firm nod. She turned her attention to the aide. "I am... going home for a short time."   
  
"But... she is expecting to see you now," Jinn said.  
  
"You would do well to inform the Senator I will arrive on Coruscant when _I_ see fit."  
  
Xander winced a little at the venom on that response. He'd never seen Imoen be so short with another person, especially with someone just delivering a message.  
  
"But, my lady, the senator -"   
  
"Does _not_ tell me what to do," Imoen cut in, sharply. "I wish to go home to Naboo and I _shall_. Tell Senator Mothma I'll meet with her soon."   
  
Jinn paused before replying. "I see. I shall relay your refusal to the Senator, then."   
  
"Whoa... wait, it's not a refusal," Xander said, holding up his hands. When Jinn looked at him, he added, "It's a... postponement." It wouldn't be too bright for Imoen to piss off one of the most influential Senators in the galaxy.  
  
Imoen shot him a glare. "Xander, I can speak for myself."   
  
"I didn't -"   
  
"I'll relay your... postponement to the Senator, my lady," Jinn cut off Xander. He bowed his head slightly to her. "Good day to you." With that said, the young man left.  
  
"Way to insult the messenger guy, you two," Buffy said once the aide was gone.  
  
"Oh, he's paid handsomely for little more than busywork." Imoen made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "He'll survive."   
  
"Well, I think it's more than the money, Imoen. You were a little... short with him."  
  
"He assumes that I should drop everything because a Senator requests an audience with me." She gave Xander a look. "Worlds _do not_ revolve around individuals."   
  
"Yeah, but Senator Mon Mothma," Cyril said. He paused when he saw a dark, shadowy form blow by the wall of one of the nearby buildings. What the hell? he thought. He realized he'd not finished his sentence when the three teenagers stared at him. "Oh... uh, isn't she one of the good guys?"  
  
"Just one of the creators of the Rebellion," Xander said.  
  
Imoen, ignoring Cyril's remark, addressed Buffy. "I am returning to Naboo. I hope you will do the people of my planet the honor of coming?"  
  
Buffy glanced at Xander. He nodded. "Well... yeah," she said, looking back to Imoen, who smiled at her. "How I can say no to the people of Naboo?"  
  
"Queen Amidala holds you in high regard, Buffy. I am certain she would like to see you again." She glanced at Cyril. "And to meet another Earther."   
  
"I'd certainly like to meet your Queen," Cyril replied, his own face lighting up. Naboo could probably prove even more interesting than Alderaan.   
  
"I guess I -" Xander started to say.  
  
"Wonderful!" Imoen declared as if Xander hadn't begun to speak. "I shall request a period of leave and we will depart for Naboo as soon as a ship is ready." She left the three of them.   
  
"Wow. Someone overdosed on the Bitchy Pills this morning," Buffy muttered as Imoen left.  
  
"I really can't blame her, Buffy," Xander said. He let out a heavy sigh. "It's all my fault."  
  
"Xander, it wasn't your fault," Cyril insisted, coming towards the boy. "I should have been able to find a way to get you back here."   
  
"No, it's my fault. I should have _never_ left her here alone." He started to walk away.   
  
Buffy shook her head, her heart going out to Xander. "And I thought I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders."   
  
Cyril began to reply, but instead yelled, "Buffy, look out!" He shoved the Slayer out of the way when the shadow he'd seen earlier made a grab for the girl.  
  
Buffy landed on the ground with a thump. She looked up as a shadow figure seized Cyril. "Oh... my... God," she gasped as the shadow morphed into a physical form. A strange gray skinned creature dressed in what looked like black robes, but the garments allowed the creature to move with ease.  
  
"Buffy..." Cyril gasped as the creature's hands slipped around his throat.   
  
Xander turned around when he heard the commotion. "Dear God," he said when he saw Cyril doing his best to fight off some creature in black.  
  
Buffy reached into her pack and brought out the bundle of stakes. "Always be prepared," she said. She got to her feet. "Hey... gray and ugly!" she yelled at the creature. She tossed two stakes which caught the thing in the back.  
  
Setamek shoved Cyril away. The ex-Watcher dropped to the ground, his hands going to his throat as he coughed.   
  
"Yeah, that was me. And there's a whole lot more where that came from!" Buffy unloaded the rest of her stakes into the creature. She blinked when it just looked from the stakes protruding from it's chest and back to her. "Um... uh oh."  
  
Setamek smiled wickedly as he met the Slayer's terrified gaze. She couldn't hurt him. For some reason, she could not harm him in this dimension. Chuckling, he knocked the stakes out, one by one, as he approached the girl. This would be a very easy mission.  
  
"Stop right there!" yelled a deep voice.   
  
Imoen, along with a dozen or so men all toting blasters and various weapons, charged into the area. The weapons were aimed at Setamek, and the tall, slender man who'd called out leveled his own blaster at the creature.   
  
"Make another move, you die," the man warned Setamek. The side of his mouth curled up into a slight grin.  
  
Setamek glanced from the Slayer only feet from his grasp then back to the humans with weapons. Could he take on all that fire power? Stakes were one thing, but this was something entirely different. Deciding to play it safe, Setamek morphed back into shadow form and whisked himself away.   
  
Buffy gave Xander reassuring nod when he came over to check on her. "I'm cool," she said then brushed her hair out of her face. In actuality, she was terrified. That thing kept coming after her...   
  
"Are you all right?" Imoen asked as she helped Cyril to his feet. She frowned a little when Cyril put his hands to his neck.   
  
"I think I'll live," Cyril answered. He looked at the men who'd chased the creature away. "Lucky you showed up when you did."  
  
"No such thing as luck," the slender dark haired man said. He smiled then motioned up to the cameras which were pointed down where they all stood. "Just a good security system. Name's Tev Erled." He made a sweeping motion with his hand, giving a mock bow. "At your service."  
  
After a round of quick introductions, Xander got right back to the point, "What was that thing anyway?"  
  
Buffy shrugged. "Don't ask me, you're the expert around here."  
  
Imoen shook her head and exchanged a look with Tev. "It is no creature from any known part of the galaxy," she replied to Buffy.   
  
"It's got to be some big alien... " Cyril replied. He cleared his throat when everyone looked at him. He felt like he was making fool of himself, and he probably was. "Or... something."  
  
"Usually when you hit a big alien, ANY alien, with a dozen stakes, it at least says 'Ow'," Buffy said to Cyril.   
  
"Oh, man, I have a bad feeling about this," Xander groaned.  
  
"As do I," Tev agreed. "Whatever our friend is, he's a danger." He motioned for two of his men to come forward. "And I'd feel much better if you had a little... protection on your trip to Naboo, Imoen. I'm sending Seren and Sarn along."  
  
Imoen pressed her lips together. "Tev, I do not need bodyguards!" she protested. She glanced at Seren who smiled at her for a moment.  
  
"They're going, and you're not talking me out of it," Tev replied, pointing a finger at her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, his voice becoming calmer. "You're important to the operation, to us, and we don't want to see you hurt. _I_ don't want to see you hurt."  
  
Imoen's shoulders slumped as she let out a sigh. There was no arguing with Tev. He got what he wanted. "All right," she finally said. She looked at him. "But only because I want to get to Naboo as soon as possible, and not waste valuable time going back and forth with you."  
  
Xander looked from Seren to Imoen. Did this guy have a thing for her? He watched Imoen like a hawk, and with eyes that any guy could spot a mile away. Well, Xander thought as he folded his arms across his chest, he'd better get over it and quick.  
  
"Come on, let's get the ship ready," Tev said, smiling at her.   
  
"Great, more space travel," Xander muttered.  
  
-  
  
Cyril stared at the ship before him. He hadn't the slightest clue what kind of ship it was, or any technical names for what the crew loaded into it. The only thing he did know was that it was big, and looked like it was being held together by rust and wax. He walked around to the side, trying to get a gander at the wording on the hull. Most likely the ship's name.  
  
"The... K... Ka.." Cyril squinted, attempting to make out the faded words. It was in English, or what Xander had said these people called "Basic". "The... Khu... fu. _Khufu_?"   
  
A smile spread across Cyril's face. _Khufu_. Name of the famous pharaoh of the Fourth Dynasty who'd built the Great Pyramid. Huh. If that wasn't something to tell the scholars back home...  
  
Buffy held up her hands, studying her nails. She'd tried a new nail polish, something called Celestial, and it wasn't showing up quite as much as she'd have liked. She wiggled her fingers, watching the sparkles in the light blue color shimmer.   
  
"I count... one, two, three..." Xander said as he sat down on the boarding ramp of the ship by Buffy. He grinned when she looked over to him. "You've still got all ten of your fingers, Buff. I'm your witness."  
  
"Ha, ha, so funny," Buffy flatly replied as she dropped her hands in her lap.   
  
"You okay?" Xander asked, noticing the look in his friend's eyes. "That run in... with whatever that was earlier still bugging you?"  
  
Buffy shrugged, her brow furrowing. "No, I'm still concerned about it, of course... but I've been feeling a little strange," she answered. She put her hands to her forehead and sighed. "You know, like, a whole bunch of pressure is coming down on me."  
  
Xander nodded. "I know what you mean." He looked over his shoulder to Imoen. She talked with a boy, maybe about 12 or 13 years old, explaining the use of the datapad in her hands to him.  
  
"I got it," the boy replied as he tried to take the datapad from Imoen. "The shipments and appointments, I got it. Really."  
  
Imoen jerked it from his reach. "You'd better be listening to me, Tal, because if you screw this up, Tev will be very angry. My job is not an easy one."  
  
Tal sighed. "So you keep telling me. Would you let me have a jab at it for once?" He held out his hand and stared at Imoen, waiting for her to hand the datapad over. "How'm I gonna learn the business if you and Tev don't let me try?"  
  
Imoen placed the datapad in his hands. "Let me give you a few pieces of advice, Talon," she said. She waited for him to stop fawning over the datapad, then continued. "The people we associate with are slick."  
  
"I know!"  
  
"So, remember, always think two steps ahead of your customers," Imoen firmly said. She raised an eyebrow at him. "If you want to run your own operation, you'll heed that advice. Also, the best way to foresee a gouge is to always expect one."   
  
"You'd better take her words to heart, Talon Karrde," Tev said as he came down the ramp of the ship. He wiped off his hands with a cloth and smiled at Imoen. "She knows what she's talking about." He paused. "You're all ready to go, my lady."  
  
"Huh?" Xander turned around upon the mention of the name "Talon Karrde". He looked at the boy walking away from the ship with the datapad. "Nah... it can't be."  
  
Tev smiled at Imoen. "Are you sure you want to go back there?" he asked. In the time Imoen had worked for him, Tev rarely heard her speak of Naboo. It was as if she'd forgotten the place existed. "You gonna be okay?"  
  
"I'll be fine," Imoen assured him. She gave Tev a hug. "Seren and Sarn will watch my back. Plus, I have Buffy here. I'm probably the safest person in the galaxy right now."  
  
Tev nodded as Buffy and Xander joined them. "I'm most certain you are," he said. He waved a hand. "Come along, fellas. All ashore who's going ashore!" He gave Imoen another look, like he didn't want her to go. "Safe journey to you," he added as the men who weren't going to Naboo left the ship.  
  
"I'm coming back, I promise," Imoen said. She sighed as Tev walked away with the others. She looked to Xander then cleared her throat. "How is your space sickness?" she asked, attempting to care about his welfare.  
  
"I've learned to control it," Xander replied. He glanced at Buffy. "Maybe I have more Force power than I thought."   
  
"Xander, I found your pills," Cyril said as he joined them. He stopped short when he saw the glare the boy shot him. "What?"  
  
Xander sighed. "Nothing. Can we just go please?"  
  
Imoen brushed a hand over her mouth, hiding a brief smile.  
  
-  
  
- Coruscant -  
  
"She what?!"  
  
Setamek bowed his head when Palpatine whirled around, angered with the news he brought. "The Slayer escaped, Grand Master," he replied. "I had no choice but to leave. She had friends. Friends with many weapons. I was not sure I could handle them."  
  
Palpatine dropped down into his chair muttered. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand. Only the voices on the tape dumps of the Senatorial subspace channels could be heard. He'd taken to bugging every one of his Senators, keeping tabs on what each one was up to.  
  
"I apologize for failing you," Setamek said when Palpatine continued to sulk. "If it were not for the humans with weapons, I -  
  
The Chancellor slammed his fist on the desk. "You should fear me more than any man made weapon!" he snarled at the Nitrean demon.  
  
"I shall do better the next time, Grand Master. I promise you."  
  
Palpatine paused in his response to Setamek when the tape dump yielded something interesting. Senator Mon Mothma had sent a message to Queen Amidala of Naboo, asking her Majesty to intercede on her behalf. She wished to speak with Imoen Earendil but the girl would not come to Coruscant.   
  
"Garm bel Iblis's aide recognized Imoen on Coreillia as Imoen Earendil, a handmaiden of your court, Your Majesty," said Mon Mothma's voice on the tape, as regal as it was in real life. "Please, help me."  
  
Mon Mothma took the girl so seriously that she wished to speak with her in person? Palpatine thought.   
  
A smile crossed his face. Amidala would persuade the handmaiden to come to Coruscant, and more than likely bring her Earth companions. They were walking right into his grasp.  
  
"My dear Setamek," he said as he rose to his feet, his smile growing more devious. "I have a new plan. Come, let us prepare."  
  
Setamek, however, preferred not. He cared nothing for this wizard's plans of galactic conquest. Then again, this wizard was his only hope for returning home.  
  
-  
  
- Naboo -  
  
"That's Naboo?" Cyril asked, pointing out the main viewscreen on the bridge.  
  
"Yeah. Pretty, huh?" Buffy replied. They'd come up to the bridge to get away from the cloud of misery hanging around Imoen and Xander. Cyril was also eager to watch as the ship landed. But as they started to plunge towards Naboo, Cyril began to wince and look down at the floor.  
  
"Shouldn't we be feeling g-forces right now?" he asked.  
  
"They have some kind of force field or something." At least that's what Xander had told Buffy. Whatever they had, it worked. Even when the ship took a sharp turn and entered the atmosphere, she couldn't feel a thing. It was weird, she had to admit.  
  
The fiery gases of the atmosphere began to thin out and a blue-green ocean appeared below. Buffy nudged Cyril. "There's your new Atlantis."  
  
"Amazing..." Cyril murmured as the ship cruised across the ocean and towards a emerald green landmass. "They picked a good planet to escape to."  
  
"If your theory is true."  
  
"We'll find out soon," Cyril replied. "I can't wait to meet them! The things they know - even as myths - so much they can tell me." Then he fell silent as Theed came into view - a pale ivory-colored patch amidst the green. A few of the city's lights were already on even though the sun was still fairly high above the horizon. "Is that the capital?"  
  
"Yeah. I wonder if they rolled out the red carpet for us. I am a planetary hero," Buffy said with a proud smile.   
  
"Actually, the Atlanteans tended to shy away from big ceremonies...But they've probably changed over the millennia."  
  
"Yeah, didn't you see the end of the movie?"   
  
"Dramatic license," Cyril said with a grin. "Let's just see what they have to say when we land," he added as the ship approached Theed and began to head for the royal palace.   
  
"That's where the Queen lives," Buffy said, pointing at the massive palace.  
  
"Amazing...Just amazing." Cyril stared out the window in awe. It was just like the Memphis mosaic sprung to life, right down to the statues of the Heavenly Court guarding the staircase. "Hey, they did roll out the red carpet," he said, noticing the small crowd gathered around the landing pad.   
  
Buffy beamed as she recognized the Queen in her white celebration gown and the  
handmaidens in the usual red dresses. "See, I told you I was a hero."  
  
"Good thing I didn't bet on it," Cyril muttered. "So shouldn't we go meet them?"  
  
"Yeah. Can't keep the fans waiting," Buffy said as she and Cyril headed for the rear of the ship.  
  
A rather queasy looking Xander was leaning against one of the walls, clutching his stomach and generally moving as little as possible. Imoen, flanked by Seren and Sarn, was at the other side of the rampway door. She smiled as Buffy and Cyril approached.  
  
"Home, finally! I can barely believe it," she said excitedly. "It feels like it's been a dozen years, not just one."  
  
"It must be good to be back," Buffy said, wondering if she'd feel the same way if she left Sunnydale for a year. And if they'd give her a hero's welcome when she came back, like the Naboo were.  
  
"Sarn, we're down," the voice of the captain announced over the ship's intercom. "It's all yours."  
  
The older of the two Coreillians nodded and smacked a large button on the ramp control panel. There was a beep and then the Khufu's gangplank lowered with a hiss.  
  
The ramp hit the ground with a slight thump and then a dozen drums began to beat in unison, rising in intensity to a climatic final flourish. A horn rang once, then silence.  
  
"Uh, now what?" Xander whispered in Buffy's ear.  
  
"You go first," she whispered back.  
  
"No! You're the hero!" he hissed.  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes, cinched up her belt, and began to stride down the ramp. As she did, there was another toot of the horn. She almost stopped, but Imoen was at her side and gently dragged her forward.  
  
The Queen and her handmaidens were waiting in a semi-circle a few meters away from the Khufu.  
  
"Welcome, my friends!" Amidala called out, smiling warmly at Buffy and Imoen. "Naboo greets you!" The horn rang again and there was another drumroll. Amidala stepped forward and hugged both of them. "Welcome back!" she said in a whisper to Imoen. "You were gone too long, Imoen."  
  
"And Buffy, our Royal Protector!" Amidala said, grabbing Buffy's hand and raising it in the air. Predictably, the horn blew and drums beat once again. "We welcome you to Theed once again."  
  
"Uh - I'm really glad to be back," Buffy stammered as her cheeks began to redden. "I've missed this plac - planet."  
  
Amidala grinned and looked over Buffy's shoulder at the four men still inside the ship. "Come forward!"  
  
Cyril, Xander, Seren and Sarn, accompanied by a long drum roll, walked down the gangplank.  
  
"Xander Harris, the honorable Ambassador of Earth," Amidala said with a smile. "Welcome back, your Excellency."  
  
"Great to be back," Xander replied, glad to be on solid ground again.   
  
Amidala turned to Cyril, Seren and Sarn. "And welcome, friends of our friends..."  
  
"Hi. I'm Cyril Zahn," Cyril said, grinning politely at the Queen. "Uh - a friend of Buffy and Xander."  
  
"Welcome to Naboo, Cyril. I hope you enjoy your stay here."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure I will!" Cyril replied, looking around at the magnificent buildings in awe. It was like something out of a dream. "It's a beautiful city."  
  
"These are Seren and Sarn, Your Majesty," Imoen said after a moment, nodding at the two Coreillians. "My friends and colleagues, and my protectors."  
  
"Hello."  
  
"Hi."  
  
Amidala grinned and nodded at the two distinctly uncomfortable smugglers. "All of Imoen's friends are welcome on Naboo." She turned towards the military band and honor guard and dismissed them with a wave of her hand. "With Buffy at hand, we need no other guards," the Queen explained. "Now, perhaps you would join me in my quarters? I would not keep you standing here all day," she said, glancing briefly at the still-shaky Xander.  
  
"We appreciate it. I'd love to see the inside of the palace," Cyril replied, still awestruck by their surroundings.  
  
"Come, then," Amidala said. She and the handmaidens began to walk up the short stone path that lead to the palace proper.  
  
"This is so amazing," Cyril added as he followed them towards the palace.  
  
"He's like a kid in a candy store," Buffy muttered to Xander. "We'll never get him to leave at this rate."  
  
"Can you blame him? There are worse places to be than Naboo," Xander replied.  
  
"Shh. We'll fall behind."  
  
They hurried to catch up just as Amidala was pointing out some detail about the side gate to an admiring Cyril. "How did you come to know Buffy and Xander, if I may ask?" she asked him.  
  
"Oh, I'm a friend of a friend," Cyril explained, glancing back at Buffy and Xander for a second. "Not much of a story, really. Not compared to that, anyway." He pointed up at a statue of two warriors battling what looked like a demon. Or a Gungan, maybe. "Superb workmanship. How old is this palace?"  
  
"The foundations are some four thousand years old, but the palace has been rebuilt many times since then, of course," Amidala replied. She paused and shrugged before continuing. "But the details elude me, I'm afraid. This version of the palace is some twelve hundred years old, I believe. The Court Historian would know the full story."  
  
"I'd love to meet him. There's so much to learn about your people..."  
  
"Well, that's easy to arrange. Yané, please inform Mistress Kirja that she is invited to the banquet tonight."  
  
"Yes, your Majesty." The blonde handmaiden bowed and slipped through the door.  
  
"There, I'm sure she can answer all your questions tonight," Amidala said to Cyril. Better her than me, she thought to herself. The man's constant questions were beginning to try her patience. Better that the Alderaanian expatriate deal with him. She'd probably enjoy it. "Oh." She stopped and beckoned Buffy, Xander and Imoen over.  
  
"I have arranged a feast in your honor, Mistress Buffy. Tonight after moonset - before then, you may explore the palace or the city as you wish. All areas are open to you, to all of you. If you have any questions, my handmaidens and the palace staff will be happy to help."  
  
"Thank you, your Majesty. You are very gracious," Cyril said, smiling in his most ingratiating manner. "Is it permitted to take photographs inside the palace?"  
  
-  
  
Buffy flopped down on the gigantic feather bed and let out a long, happy sigh. "This is more like it. The bed on the Khufu gave me a sore back," she said.   
  
"At least you were able to sleep," Xander pointed out, patting his stomach and wincing in memory of the flight. "Those pills were a sham. And when is my room going to be ready?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know. Maybe they like me better. I am the Royal Protector," Buffy pointed out.  
  
"And I'm the Ambassador," Xander muttered. "You'd think they could at least put me ahead of Cyril on the list."  
  
"Relax. Why don't you go find Imoen?"  
  
Xander's face scrunched up in a grimace. "She's too busy chatting with Rabé and Sabé and the rest of her friends."  
  
Oops. "I'm sure she's just glad to see them, Xander."  
  
"Gladder than she was to see me."  
  
"Look, it'll take time. But I know she likes you. Just be patient."  
  
Xander threw his hands into the air and sat down on one of the easy chairs. "Sure, patient. We've already been in this universe for days. How long will it take?"  
  
"I don't know." Buffy sighed and sat up in bed. "Why don't you talk to her after the big dinner tonight? I have to go, anyway. The Queen is giving me and Cyril some kind of tour of the palace."  
  
"Great. Have fun." Xander stood up and headed for the door. "I guess I'll go throw rocks in the reflecting pool."  
  
"Yeah, you, uh, do that," Buffy said as he left. She did feel sorry for him. None of it had gone like he'd expected. But what could she do? Maybe she could say something to Amidala during the tour.   
  
Buffy grinned and slipped off the bed. That's what she'd do. She'd sic the Queen on Imoen. After the tour - she couldn't be rude and interrupt the big ceremony, after all.  
  
Eirtae and a man in a bland green uniform were waiting outside of Buffy's room.  
  
"Ah, Buffy. Are you ready for the tour?" Eirtae asked as Buffy emerged.  
  
"Uh - yeah. Where's the Queen?"  
  
Eirtae frowned just slightly in apology. "She had urgent business, I'm afraid, and asked me to give the tour in her stead."  
  
"Oh. Okay." Buffy tried not to look too disappointed. "Does this mean we won't get to see the good stuff?"  
  
"Good stuff?" Eirtae asked, puzzled.  
  
"You know, like the Queen's bedroom and stuff..." Buffy trailed off as Eirtae and the uniformed man gawked at her. "You know, like they did at the White House...Never mind. Lead on, MacDuff."  
  
"Avin?" Eirtae prompted, nodding at the man in the uniform.  
  
"Right, then," the man replied. "Well, this wing of the palace is known as the Friendship Arm, as it houses the guests of the reigning Monarch and her court."  
  
-  
  
The Onodil Tower was Imoen's favorite part of the Palace. It overlooked the waterfall and much of the new city. From the cafe atop the Tower, one could even see much of the Hyperian Plains and beyond that, a dark green blur that was the near edge Lutherién Wood. And beyond that was the small town of Hagia Triada where she had been born.  
  
Imoen turned away from the window and sighed when she saw that Rabé and Sabé were staring at her. "I'm sorry," she said.   
  
"It's all right, Imoen," Rabé assured her. "It must be strange to be back after so long."  
  
"Yes, it must be hard to be away from the ones you love," Sabé added, then took a sip of wine.   
  
Imoen sat back and glared at the older handmaiden. "What does that mean?"  
  
"I only meant that it must have been hard living away from home," Sabé replied patiently.  
  
"I don't think that's what you meant," Imoen said after a second.  
  
"Imoen..."  
  
"Let Sabé speak for herself, Rabé."   
  
Rabé shook her head, but stayed silent and finished off her own wine.  
  
"All right, if you insist. I think you're being an absolute bitch to Xander," Sabé said. "Have you lost all your manners on Coreillia?" she asked, glancing briefly at the two spacers burping and tossing back shots of Yenesé whiskey two tables away.  
  
"That's crazy," Imoen angrily replied. "I've been more than polite to Xander."  
  
"You haven't said eight words to him since you arrived, Imoen. From what I've heard, he came all the way from Earth to find you, at great risk to himself. The least you could do is admit he exists."  
  
"You've been eavesdropping!" Imoen exclaimed, angry that her friend had been spying on her.  
  
"You could at least speak to him, Imoen."  
  
"If you like him so much, why don't you go talk to him?"  
  
"I - "  
  
Before Sabé could reply, Rabé sat up. "It's nearly time for my meeting with Captain Panaka about the security arrangements for tonight. I shall see you both later." She left without another word, clearly glad to get out of the chilly café.  
  
"As I was saying," Sabé went on after a second. "Xander is not my boyfriend. He's yours."  
  
"He is not my boyfriend," Imoen said wearily. "I haven't even seen him in more than a year."  
  
"He's here now, Imoen. Ignoring that won't help things. If you have any courtesy left in you, you'll at least tell him how things are."  
  
"You - " Imoen shook her head. It was too late for that. Xander was part of the past, no matter what he thought. But you thought that about Naboo, a voice in her mind reminded her. And here you are. But it was different with Xander. He had left her alone. She'd had to move on.  
  
Before Imoen could start to tell Sabé all of that, the handmaiden glanced at the doorway and quickly stood up.  
  
"My Queen."  
  
Imoen hurriedly got to her feet and bowed as Amidala exited the turbolift alcove. "My Queen," she said, echoing Sabé. Seren and Sarn stood up and bowed awkwardly.  
  
"We would like to speak with Imoen alone, please. Sabé, perhaps Masters Seren and Sarn would like to visit the Guardsmen's Bar?"  
  
"Yes, your Majesty."   
  
The two Coreillians needed no encouragement to gain access to serious liquor and readily followed Sabé out of the room.  
  
Amidala smiled as they left, then sat down across from Imoen. "I have just received a message from Senator Mon Mothma on Coruscant."  
  
"I see..." Imoen said, unable to think of anything intelligent to say.  
  
"I believe you know what the message said."  
  
"She requests my presence on Coruscant?"  
  
Amidala nodded. "And that you turned her first invitation down. Is there something wrong, Imoen? I should think you'd have been pleased to meet Mon Mothma after all you've said over the past two years."  
  
"You've heard of that?" Imoen asked in amazement.  
  
The young Queen smiled slyly. "Naboo has its eyes and ears in the Galaxy, you know," she pointed out. Her smile faded. "I only know that you are troubled. I wish you would trust me enough to tell me what worries you."  
  
"I...I can't. I'm sorry, it's not something I can just share."  
  
"I see." Amidala stared at Imoen for a moment, a hurt look on her face, then shrugged. "As you wish. But can you at least do me a small favor in honor of your past loyalty?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Go to Coruscant. Meet Mon Mothma."   
  
Imoen fidgeted. She was caught. Finally, she nodded. "Yes, your Majesty. I will leave in the morning."  
  
Amidala smiled. "Good. Bring your friends - all of them. I have a feeling you will need their protection and friendship more than I." She turned in the chair and looked out at the setting sun. "The celebration will be beginning soon. We should both take leave to get ready."  
  
"I will, in a moment...I've missed the sunset," she explained to Amidala's unspoken question. The Queen nodded and left without another word.  
  
Imoen stayed a few moments longer, watching the reddish sun slowly slip below the horizon, then stood up and, sighing slightly, left the café.  
  
-  
  
Buffy picked at the sleeves of her silk dress. It was the least impractical of the ten dresses Eirtae and the others had offered, but it still made her feel like she was wearing a straitjacket. What if another jinn attacked? She'd barely be able to run or fight in the silken outfit.  
  
On the other hand, it was _very_ pretty. Buffy twirled in place, letting the silver tail of the dress spin in the breeze. I could get used to wearing fancy clothes like this, Buffy decided. Too bad I turned down the jewelry.  
  
"Well, you look spiffy."   
  
Buffy froze and spun towards the door. "Oh! Xander." She grinned and lowered her hands, which had balled into fists. "Yeah, don't I?" she asked. "You're not exactly a bum, yourself."  
  
Xander shrugged and tugged at the collar of his military-style suit. "I feel like Soldier Boy again."  
  
"You look like - " Buffy paused, trying to remember the name of the character she was thinking of. "Lando, from the second one."  
  
"Really? I've achieved Lando style?" Xander asked, peering down at the suit. "Huh, yeah, I can see it." He smiled a little then looked back to her. "So.. .how was the tour?"  
  
Her nose scrunched. "Boring. It was like a field trip to a museum. Bunch of junk I didn't care about. Oh... but I am part of the Naboo history... because I saved Amidala from Saar." She grinned proudly.   
  
"Hmph. Well... congratulations."  
  
"Thanks. So where's Cyril?" she asked with a glance at the clock above her bed. "Aren't we all supposed to meet up now?"  
  
Xander nodded. "He's dictating a description of his suit into a tape recorder or something. He said he'd be here soon."  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Just as long as he doesn't shoot himself with a blaster just to find out what it feels like."  
  
"Yeah. I can't believe Captain Panaka was going along with that," Xander muttered. "We should get Cyril a babysitter."  
  
"I'm not going to ask why you think that," Cyril said as he entered the bedroom. He was wearing a suit similar to Xander's, but dark blue as opposed to black, and with a slightly more military style. "This clothing is incredible. It's amazingly ornate...and the fabric! There's nothing like this on Earth. The Numenoreans have completely adapted to their new habitations."  
  
"Oh, brother..." Buffy sighed. "Are we ready to go?"  
  
"Yeah, let's get cracking. I'm hungry."  
  
"Me too," Cyril said, checking that the tape in his tape-recorder was rewound and ready to record. He couldn't wait to see a living example of Naboo rituals in action. His only regret was not bringing a video camera to the Star Wars universe.  
  
He followed Buffy and Xander out into the hallway. A painfully-shiny droid was waiting to direct them to the feast hall.  
  
"This way, gentlebeings," the droid, a crude forerunner of the 3POs, said, bowing at the three of them. "The Queen is expecting you."  
  
"Cool."  
  
It led them down the long hallway, up a short staircase, through another hallway and finally stopped before a pair of massive golden-bronze doors. "Please enjoy your dining, gentlebeings," the droid murmured, then wandered off into the crowd gathering around the doors.  
  
"So - now what do we do?" Buffy asked after a moment.  
  
"Um..." Xander trailed off and shrugged. "Wait?"  
  
Cyril was too busy staring at all the Naboo around him and muttering notes into his tape recorder to notice.  
  
"Buffy, Xander, there you are," a voice spoke from the crowd. Eirtae emerged from between an elderly Naboo woman and an overweight Gungan. "The Queen sent me to usher you to your seats," she explained. "Come with me."  
  
"Oh, that's really no problem..." Buffy stopped as she entered the feast hall behind Eirtae. The circular room, easily the size of the gym at Sunnydale High, was packed with at least sixty small, round tables. "So where do we sit?" she asked cheerfully.  
  
"This way," Eirtae replied. She led the three of them through the room and stopped at a table near the raised platform at the far end of the hall. "This is where Ambassador Harris and Master Cyril may sit," Eirtae said.   
  
"Anywhere?" Xander asked, resting his hands on a random chair.  
  
"Yes, anywhere," Eirtae replied patiently. "Mistress Buffy, you will have a place at Queenseat here," she said, leading Buffy up the short set of steps to the large round table atop the platform. "With the Queen and Governor Bibble, and the rest of the Queen's inner court. Here, this is your seat, beside the Queen's."  
  
"All right. Can I sit down now?" Buffy asked. "I've never been to a fancy thing like this before."  
  
Eirtae smiled and nodded. "Yes, make yourself comfortable. The Queen will be here shortly."  
  
"Thanks!" Buffy said as she sat down on the very comfortable chair. It felt like the cushions were filled with goosefeathers. She let out a contented sigh and waited.  
  
It wasn't a long wait. Barely five minutes passed before horns rang out and everyone inside the room shot to their feet as the Queen entered through the massive doors. Amidala, followed by the Governor, Captain Panaka and a trio of handmaidens, crossed the room and ascended the steps to Queenseat.  
  
"Greetings, Mistress Buffy," the Queen said as she sat down on the throne-like chair at the head of the table, in the shadow of a statue of a robed queen with a sword in hand.   
  
"Good evening, your Majesty," Buffy replied, hoping that was the proper etiquette. "Your dress is very pretty," she said, then grimaced. Pretty lame, Buffy.  
  
"Thank you," Amidala said evenly. "As is yours."  
  
"Really? Awesome! I mean, thank you." Buffy coughed and stared down at the glass of water next to her plate. Portrait of a loser, she said to her reflection.  
  
Below, Xander watched in mild amusement as Cyril began scribbling a sketch of the feast hall into one of his tiny notepads. "Take a picture, it will last longer," he suggested.  
  
"No, no, it would take too many shots to cover the whole room," Cyril replied absently. "I only have five rolls of film."  
  
"Cyril, it's..." Xander reconsidered and gave up. Buffy was right - Kid in Candy Shop syndrome. "Have fun."  
  
"Oh, believe me, I am," Cyril muttered as he began to draw one of the massive columns at the side of the room. "It's a gold mine..."  
  
Xander shook his head and looked around the room for something to divert his attention.  
  
"Hey, Imoen!" he called out, seeing her - and her two Coreillian friends - crossing the room to their table.   
  
Imoen lifted her chin in a faint acknowledgement of his greeting, but didn't say a word as she sat down...between Seren and Sarn.  
  
"Hey kid, how ya doin'?" Sarn, the older of the two Coreillians asked. "That's great," he said before Xander could reply.  
  
Sarn shifted in his seat. "Your people sure know how to throw a party, Im," he said, turning his back to Xander.  
  
"Yeah, some party," Xander muttered.  
  
-   
  
The dinner passed quickly and, after a brief invocation of the Force by Queen Amidala, quietly.  
  
Cyril and Kirja, the Naboo Court Historian, who switched seats to be next to the Earth historian, kept up a whispered conversation broken only by Cyril scribbling more notes and sketches. Xander, stuck next to the somewhat energetic Sarn, was unable to get a word in with Imoen. Buffy tried to keep up with the conversation at her table, but the topic turned to Naboo politics and she began to zone out, only snapping back to attention when she heard her name mentioned.  
  
" - ress Buffy, our dear friend and hero," the Queen, who had stood up, was saying.  
  
The Naboo cheered.  
  
"Thanks...It was nothing, really," Buffy stammered. "I just did my job."  
  
Amidala grinned. "I think saving my life is worth a little acclaim..."  
  
The guests laughed politely.   
  
"Can I sit down now?" Buffy asked in a whisper.  
  
"Soon," Amidala replied softly. She looked over at Captain Panaka, who was standing at her side with a long wooden box in his hand. The Captain nodded and stepped over to Buffy's side of the table.   
  
"Your Majesty, the Scepter of the Naboo," Panaka said, opening the box. Inside was a silver scepter with an inscription in the distinctive Naboo runes upon its side. Amidala nodded and lifted the Scepter out of the pine box.   
  
"Buffy Summers, step forward," the Queen called out.   
  
Buffy stifled a confused frown and inched closer to the Queen.   
  
"Buffy Anne Summers, Royal Protector of the Naboo, in honor of your brave service to my people, I give to you the rank of Lady," Amidala intoned. She raised the scepter up and gently tapped it twice against Buffy's forehead. "Let the Naboo never forget the great deeds you have done on our behalf."  
  
Anything Buffy started to say was drowned out by the thunderous applause of the guests, including a loud whistle from Xander's table.  
  
"Lady Summers, let your name be added to the Annals," Amidala continued. "Our gratitude to you can never be fully expressed, but I pray this serves to show it."  
  
"Thank you," Buffy replied, blushing uncontrollably now. "I - I don't know what to say. Thank you. It's - this is - really cool. Thank you."  
  
Amidala nodded with a grin. "It is you who have our thanks, Lady Buffy. Now...let us all eat, so that our stomachs make thank us," she said. "You may sit now," she added to Buffy in a whisper.  
  
Buffy and the Queen both sat down to polite applause from those Naboo who weren't already picking at their dessert.  
  
"So, how does it feel to be a noblewoman?" Governor Bibble asked.  
  
"Uh...it's, you know, really cool," Buffy answered lamely. "Uh. I feel kinda British now."  
  
"I'm sure you're very proud," Bibble said.  
  
"Uh-huh..." Buffy nodded and then turned her attention to the - well, whatever kind of animal was laid out on her plate. She decided not to ask. It tasted good, that's all she cared about at this point. Let Cyril worry about the details.  
  
Another quarter of an hour passed in amiable small-talk, then a chime rang out and echoed in the hall. The guests, who had all finished their meals by now, began to stand up and trickle out.  
  
"It's over? Already?" Buffy asked, watching the tables began to empty.  
  
"Many of them have come a long way to visit Theed," Captain Panaka explained. "They must leave now to return home before morning."  
  
"Oh." Buffy listlessly finished off her tenth glass of water. "Can't they just get rooms at the Hilton?" she asked under her breath. "This is my big party."  
  
-  
  
Xander watched as Cyril, still talking shop with Kirja, left the room.  
  
Imoen and the Coreillians had left as soon as Buffy's 'speech' was over.  
  
Some party. There wasn't even a Cousin It to liven things up...just one big funk.  
  
He sighed and looked around the emptying room. Everyone he knew, even in the loosest sense, was already gone.  
  
Xander stared down at his empty plate. "Nuts to this," he muttered as he stood up. There had to be something to distract him around here.  
  
He headed out of the dining hall and up the great staircase to the second level of the palace. He started walking down the hall that lead to the big hangar, hoping to maybe see one of the Naboo starfighters. But a woman in a handmaiden's dress was blocking the way.  
  
"I'm sorry, but this area is off limits tonight," the dark-haired woman said to Xander, an apologetic smile on her face. "By orders of the Queen herself."  
  
"Great. Thanks," Xander said. He sighed and turned back towards the guest wing. Maybe Buffy was back by now. He was at the point of considering finding a droid to talk to when a familiar laugh cut through his misery.  
  
He followed the sound of Imoen's laughter to one of the balconies looking out to the north. Imoen was sitting on a marble bench, gazing up at the stars. Seren was standing behind Imoen, gazing at her, while Sarn was off to the side, glaring at the world in general and tapping his blaster pistol with one hand.  
  
"Hey," Xander said.  
  
All three of them turned towards him. Sarn rolled his eyes and went back to looking for hidden attackers, while Seren frowned and Imoen looked at Xander with a guarded expression on her face.  
  
"Hello, Xander," Imoen finally said, managing a thin smile.  
  
"Hi," he replied. "I thought I heard you."  
  
"Good ears, kid," Sarn noted with a grim chuckle that gave Xander the urge to hide, or at least duck.  
  
"Heh heh, yeah..."  
  
Seren frowned at Xander. "What did you want? The balcony's already crowded."  
  
"I just wanted to talk to Imoen. It's important."  
  
"She doesn't want to talk to you," Seren replied.  
  
"Seren..."  
  
"Sorry, Im," the red-faced smuggler muttered.  
  
"I will hear him out," Imoen said firmly.  
  
"Fair 'nuff," Sarn said. He clapped Seren on the shoulder. "Come on, let's find some Naboo to flirt with."  
  
"Are you sure about this?" Seren asked as Sarn dragged him towards the hallway.  
  
She smiled and nodded. "I will be okay, Seren, trust me."  
  
The Coreillian scowled but gave in and followed Sarn.  
  
After they were gone, Imoen shifted on the bench so that she was facing Xander. "What is it?" she asked softly.  
  
Xander shrugged. "I just wanted to talk, Imoen. You've been avoiding me since we got here."  
  
"Xander..."  
  
Xander sighed and walked to the edge of the balcony. "Hey!" he said after a few seconds. "This is the same balcony from last time we were on Naboo. The one where you told me that story, the one about the Star Queen. What was her name - Vilya?"  
  
"Varda," Imoen corrected sternly.  
  
"Right, Varda." Xander looked up at the starry sky and pointed at a cluster of bluish stars just above the northern horizon. "That's where she lives," he continued. "Waiting and watching for her husband Maanawehwho - "  
  
"Mânawenûz."  
  
"Right - the one who gave up his love to fight darkness," he went on. "And her tears are the stars."  
  
Imoen smiled at Xander. "You remember the story?"  
  
"Yeah...I thought about it a lot while you were gone," Xander admitted. "About how it had such a sad ending. Just like we did."  
  
"I waited for you for months, Xander," Imoen said softly. "After you left, I stayed on Naboo for half a year - in Theed and then at Hagia Triada, just long enough to see that my family home had been knocked down to build a milk factory."  
  
"Imoen, I'm sorry, I - "  
  
She held up her hand and Xander shut up. "It wasn't your fault. And it's in the past, all of it. After six months, when winter came, I couldn't bear it any more. I had to leave. I knew you weren't coming back."  
  
Imoen stood up and joined Xander at the stone railing. "So I left. I went to Coreillia. It was the best place I could think of to disappear and start over. It only took a few thousand credits to buy a new life."  
  
"Is that when you hooked up with that Erled guy?"  
  
"Hooked up?" Imoen asked, an amused gleam in her eyes.   
  
"You know what I mean," Xander mumbled.  
  
"Yes, I do, and yes, it was," Imoen replied, smiling for a moment. "He needed an agent, a liaison with more genteel clients. Industrial leaders, petty nobles, military leaders... You may not have noticed, but Tev and his men are a bit uncouth."  
  
"Yeah, you could say that," Xander noted, thinking darkly of Seren.  
  
"He's a good man, Xander. Like Han Solo. An honorable scoundrel, I suppose. He gave me honest pay...and I doubled his profits. He can do legitimate jobs for legitimate clients now."  
  
"Cool."  
  
"It was. So different than my work on Naboo, but at the core, it was the same... pampering the rich. But even so, nobody would listen to me. I tried to tell a few of the clients what was going to happen, but they always laughed. After a few months of being laughed at, I gave up," Imoen said, her pale face gleaming in the moonlight.  
  
"I missed you, Imoen. I've been miserable without you," Xander whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry I left you. Come back with me."  
  
"Xander..." Imoen sighed and bowed her head. "It's hard to live there on Coreillia knowing what's going to happen. And it's even harder to be back here, knowing what will happen and being helpless against it...but at least here I am in the world I have known all my life. On Earth, I'm dependent on you and the others just to survive day to day. On Coreillia, I have my own life. My own place, my own work..."  
  
"Imoen, please. Come back home with me."  
  
"Xander..."  
  
"I love you, Imoen. If you won't leave, neither will I."  
  
Imoen glared at Xander. "Well, that's just plain silly."  
  
"What have I got back there, Imoen?"  
  
"Buffy and Willow and Giles... the entire real world."  
  
"Yeah, but I don't have you."  
  
"You didn't have me before and you got along just fine, Xander."  
  
Xander shook his head. "Since then, I've wondered every day how I did."  
  
"Xander, I..." Imoen stared up at the stars. Varda, help me...guide me... After a moment, the answer seemed to fill her heart. She let out a deep breath and turned to Xander. "I - "  
  
"Hey, Im, you okay?"  
  
Xander groaned and turned around. Seren was standing in the doorway, a worried look on his face. "You've been out here a while."  
  
"Yes, I'm fine, Seren," Imoen said. "I'm rather exhausted, though. I think I'll retire early."  
  
"Good idea, Im," Seren said. "I'll walk you to your room."  
  
Imoen gave Xander a sad look and left with Seren. "Good night, Xander," she said as she vanished into the hallway.  
  
"Yeah...great night." Xander sighed and went back to staring up at the silent stars.  
  
-  
  
- Royal Garden -  
  
Xander wandered out into the Royal Garden, where Buffy first made contact with this world by almost falling on Obi-Wan Kenobi. The grounds were illuminated by some psychedelic neon lights on the ground. Very wacky blues and light lavenders. Still, quite cool. After checking out a few of the stranger bits of flora and fauna in the Garden, he made a left and found himself in an open area.   
  
He was surprised to find Queen Amidala and two of her handmaidens sitting comfortably on the elaborately fashioned gray stone bench. More of those neon lights from nowhere were the prominent lighting source for this place.   
  
"Ambassador Harris," Amidala greeted with a soft smile when she saw him. She rose to her feet, slowly, yet gracefully. "Is something not to your liking? The celebration is not... boring, I hope?"  
  
Xander shook his head. "No, the party's great... for Buffy," he replied. He saw the frown on Amidala's unpainted face. "Oh, I'm not knocking it or anything. Your people put on a great show. It's just that it's in Buffy's honor and everybody in the Palace back there is hanging on every word _she_ says. I'm Fifth Wheel Guy."  
  
Amidala bit her lip a little. Xander was in emotional pain of the worst kind - love. Most likely Imoen induced, she concluded. "Yane, Sache, would you excuse us?" she politely asked of her two handmaidens.   
  
"Certainly, your Majesty," the two girls replied. After bowing, the two left Amidala and Xander alone in the Garden.  
  
"Please, sit with me, Ambassador," Amidala said. She made a sweeping motion with her right hand as she sat down on the bench. "I would like to speak with you."  
  
"Sure, I guess," Xander replied as he sat down, making sure he was at an acceptable distance. He didn't want to chance a surprise Anakin Skywalker visit and let the tyke see him sitting too close to the Queen. That was the last thing he needed - to be on Anakin's hit list. "And it's just 'Xander'. That Ambassador thing... it's... well, just 'Xander', if you would."  
  
"You're troubled... Xander," Amidala said.   
  
"That's one way of putting it."  
  
"I know it is Imoen who causes your heart such sorrow."  
  
"She hates me because I never came back for her like I promised. It was out of my control. Really. If it hadn't been for that jerk Ethan Rayne... " Xander shook his head as he gripped the edge of the stone bench tightly. "Anyway... she hates me. And I want her to unhate me."  
  
"She does not hate you, Xander." Amidala paused when Xander looked at her. "Imoen was so full of hope when she came back to Naboo, shortly before leaving for Coreillia. She knew you would come back one day. Even when she left for Coreillia, she believed that."  
  
"I know, your Majesty," Xander replied. "I fully expected to come back for her very soon. But, well, the jerk who got us into that whole last fiasco, he... um... disappeared, taking with him the little crystal that brought us to this.... part of the galaxy." He sighed. "I _did_ want to come back. I wish she'd understand."  
  
"She has suffered much loss, Xander. Her parents left this place and told no one where they were going. And she lost you... and with that, she lost hope." She placed a hand on one of Xander's. "I know Imoen very well. Right now, she's the saddest young woman in this galaxy."  
  
"Great. I've wrecked the life of the only girl I really loved." He chuckled with a scoff. "Now what do I do?"   
  
"I assume you've told Imoen how you feel?"   
  
"Of course."   
  
"The next step is hers. You must wait."   
  
He turned towards Amidala. "But what if she never makes the next step?"   
  
"You must be prepared to wait forever then." She looked deep into Xander's eyes before asking, "Are you?"   
  
"Yes," he answered without hesitation.  
  
"You have your solution." Amidala removed her hand from Xander's as she sat up straight. "There is nothing else more I can offer you."   
  
"Yeah, I guess you're right." He stood up with a heavy sigh. "Thank you, your Majesty." His heart hanging low in his chest, Xander left the Queen alone in the Garden. If he wanted Imoen to come back with him, he would have to try harder. The upcoming trip allowed plenty of time for him to do so.  
  
- End Part One -  
  



End file.
